Fairest of Them All
by GhostWriter267
Summary: When a priceless tiara - the first prize of a beauty pageant - is threatened, Kim must go undercover to protect it battling not only the theives, but her own insecurities along the way. Written as a challenge by t-rex989. Rated T for sexual innuendoes.
1. Chapter 1 - Set the Stage

_Hello, everybody. I'm back with my third KP fic. This one is multi-chapter and was a challenge from t-rex989. He asked that I write a story in which Kim must go undercover in a beauty pageant. I gotta say, I had never considered that plotline before, but as soon as t-rex989 suggested it, ideas were exploding in my head. So, without further ado, I present to you...Chapter 1._

_I do not own Kim Possible, Disney does. And I do not own Disney._

* * *

**FAIREST OF THEM ALL**

"_If only we had the gift to see ourselves as others see us."_

- Scrooge McDuck. "Blue Collar Scrooge." DuckTales.

**Chapter 1 - Set the Stage**

The night was anything but quiet outside of a squat two-story office building located in the middle of one of the trendiest sections of the city of Los Angeles. The traffic - both vehicular and pedestrian - was thick on the streets and taking full advantage of the city night life. Neon signs for restaurants and night clubs flashed brightly to catch the attention of even the most unobservant potential customer. Bold letters on overhead marquees screamed out the latest movies while larger than life posters granted sneak peeks of the latest summer blockbusters. Upscale restaurants proudly displayed elegant dining in elaborately decorated outdoor seating areas.

Compared to all this pomp and circumstance, the little office building didn't look nearly as impressive. However, there wasn't an eye on the street that it failed to capture. You see, this was the American headquarters of the famous fashion designer, Marcus Dubois. Women in every major city in the U.S. and Europe dreamed of owning one of his dresses. The display windows in his salon were showing off his new fall line. Every lady that passed by had their gaze glued to the fabric while the men with them gawked at the outrageous price tags.

Either way, everyone's attention was centered on the building's first floor. No one thought to look up at the roof where two figures kept to the shadows.

One figure was of average height with slightly rounded shoulders and a slim, but well-toned build. In one hand, he held an ornate wooden cane with a small clear jewel on the top. The other figure was a head taller and more muscular in the chest and arms. Both wore black ski masks and jumpsuits.

The figures crept slowly and silently across the roof towards a skylight centered within a circle of air ducts. The shorter of the two bent down and peered through the darkened glass into the hallway below. Two points of light appeared from either end of the corridor. The figure withdrew a bit when he saw two burly security guards making their rounds. A pair of flashlights waved over every inch of the hallway looking for possible threats. The guards passed by each other, nodded, and continued in opposite directions.

When the corridor below was dark once again, the prowling figure removed a small electronic devise from his pocket and placed it on the skylight. A tiny light on the gadget blinked red several times before finally turning green. All alarm systems on the skylight had been deactivated.

The shorter figure motioned to the taller who immediately stepped forward and opened the skylight hatch. After securing a rope around one of the air ducts, the shorter figure nimbly shimmied his way down into the hallway. Looking once, then twice, in both directions, he determined that the area was clear and signaled his partner that it was safe to come down.

THUD!

The shorter figure looked back and saw that his much less graceful partner had lost his grip on the rope and fallen to the floor.

"Ow!" the fallen figure said in a thick Spanish accent. "Why must they make these floors so hard?"

"SHH!" hissed the other intruder in a similar, though deeper, accent. "We will be discovered."

"But, Father, I _oomph_." The rest of his complaint was cut short as the older of the two clamped a hand over the younger's mouth. Once he was sure his son would not speak again, the older man let go and lead the way down the hall.

Months of observation had made the old thief very familiar with the guards' patrol routes. As such, he knew they had only a few precious minutes before their entrance was discovered. With cat-like movements, the older man slinked down the hall. Each footstep aimed for one of the many rugs spread across the floor to minimize sound. In no time, he'd reached a set of double doors just a few dozen feet from the skylight.

The older figure looked back to check on his son's progress and immediately wished he hadn't. The younger of the two was stumbling his way forward, tripping over the floor rugs, falling at least three more times and bumping into the pedestals that lined the edges of the corridor and held very expensive and highly breakable treasures. It was only the quick reflexes of the older thief that prevented the guards from hearing a series of loud crashes.

"Junior," the thief said sternly as he replaced a porcelain vase on its stand. "Try to be a little more careful."

"It is not my fault, Father," said Junior. "This hallway should not be so cluttered."

The senior thief sighed in a long suffering way and let the matter drop. Moving back over to the set of doors, he twisted the knob and ever so slowly pushed the door open. The room inside was dark, but a few emergency lights on the walls provided enough light to see a beautifully decorated office with paintings that stretched across entire walls, thick Persian rugs on the floor and the finest leather furniture. Several mannequins stood frozen within the room, wrapped in the finest silks and sequins: the newest ideas and experiments from Mr. Dubois. But the thing that really caught the thief's eye was a podium in the center of the room on which sat a tiara on a plush velvet pillow.

The older man practically drooled when he saw it. The tiara was made of very fine golden thread, woven into thick bands. Even in the scant lighting, the jewels that lined the bottom twinkled like stars. A diamond as big as a man's thumb was prominently displayed in front.

"Alright, Junior, you stay here while I go in."

"Why did you drag me with you if you were just going to leave me behind?" the younger man whined.

"I need you to keep a look out for the guards," the elder thief replied.

"We already saw the guards," the younger said, pointing down the corridor in either direction. "They went that way...and that way."

The older man muttered under his breath and held his head with both hands, as if to ward off a chronic headache. "Yes, I know that," he said very slowly, "but, I need you to stay here and tell me when they come back."

"Fine, whatever," said Junior, folding his arms in a huff.

"Good and remember - keep quiet." The older man reached into his pocket again and pulled out a small aerosol canister. With a sweep of his arm, he sprayed the room with a fine mist that revealed dozens of infrared laser beams, no doubt connected to an alarm or trap. The thief observed the stationary beams carefully, bent his legs and sprang into the air. Showing a level of agility and flexibly a person half his age would envy, the man flipped over and rolled under all the beams and reached the glass case that held the tiara.

"Hello, my lovely prize." The thief held his cane out to the electronic lock on the case. Several lights began blinking within the jewel on the cane's top and soon the electronic lock responded by unlocking itself. The old man opened the case and was just about to grab the tiara when he heard a noise from behind him.

_Toing!_

Spotlights flooded the room and the old thief had to shield his eyes against the sudden brightness. When his sight had adjusted, he saw his son, inside the office, hanging upside down from the ceiling in a net.

"Junior, what are you doing?" the man asked angrily. "Did I not tell you to stay outside and watch for guards?"

"That is why I came in here," explained the young man. "The guards are coming!"

Not a full second later, the two security guards appeared within the door frame with two stun guns trained at the pair of burglars.

"Freeze!" one of the guards shouted. "You two aren't going anywhere."

"I am sorry," said the older man, "but I must disagree." Reaching into his pocket a third time, he threw out a handful of smoke pellets that quickly filled the room with a dull grey mist. While the guards were coughing, the older man pulled out a short blade hidden in his cane and cut the net holding his son who fell, yet again, on the floor.

"Quickly, Junior." The pair ran for the window and before the guards could stop them, jumped through the glass. With a press of a button on their belts, the would-be thieves activated rocket jets hidden in their footwear and flew off into the night.

* * *

Having returned to the safety of their own private and uncharted island, the thieves - Señor Senior Senior and Señor Senior Junior - recuperated after their epic failure. Senior had changed into his usual red jacket and slacks. The billionaire's face was taunt, frozen in an angry mask. He walked up and down the side of a huge in-ground pool, his strides long and quick against the concrete. Every so often he would lash out with his cane, striking the ground or the metal ladder of the pool or swinging it through the air like a sword.

Junior was lounging on a deck chair in a Speedo, a contented smile on his face. Every time he paced past his son, Senior would shoot the young man a dirty look which was completely ignored.

"Father, would you mind doing your walking somewhere else?" asked Junior as he adjusted the tanning mirror angled against his bare chest. "The click-clack of your shoes is breaking my tanning concentration."

The older man paid no heed to his son's request and simply kept on pacing. "Months of observation and detailed planning wasted," Senior raged at his son. "All because you could not follow the simplest of instructions."

"I said I was sorry, Father," said Junior in a tone that suggested that he was no such thing.

"To add insult to injury, we did not even get the honor of being defeated by our archenemy, Kim Possible. We were foiled by mere...security guards," spat Senior.

"I'm sure we will get another chance to fight Kim Possible, Father," said Junior in an indulgent way. "We will break into the fashion studio again and she will come after us."

"The security at the studio will be increased now that they know someone tried to break in," Senior said impatiently. "And besides, tomorrow the tiara is being moved to a stage in San Francisco where it will be displayed as the first place prize in the Ms. Fabulous Beauty Pageant. There will be even more guards around it then."

"Oh, well, I'm sure there are other expensive trinkets we can steal," said Junior carelessly. "Just as well that we won't be going back to Dubois' studio. I have always found his designs to be a bit on the dull side."

A resounding crash echoed through the air as Señor Senior's cane knocked the tanning mirror out of Junior's hands and sent it skidding across the concrete apron of the pool, flinging broken shards of glass in its wake. Junior looked up in shock to see his father's angry face bearing down on him.

"I don't want another trinket!" the billionaire shouted. "I want that tiara!"

It took Junior a moment to find his voice. He was used to being reprimanded by his father for failing in the villainous arts, but never to this degree. "What is so special about that tiara? Surely it cannot be worth that much."

"It's not about what it's worth by itself, Junior," said Senior as he resumed his pacing. "That tiara is the key to an entire kingdom of riches. We must get it and I only need a little quiet so that I can think of another plan to obtain it."

"AAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!"

"Junior, I said quiet!"

"It was not me, Father."

Both men turned towards their mansion where a young woman of about 18 years burst through the front doors. She had tanned skin to match her long brown hair and a pair of blue-green eyes that rarely held any kind of warmth. A light purple dress that cost more than most people's cars snuggly fit her thin body. She marched across the front lawn towards Senior and Junior with a scowl to match that of the older man's.

"I just cannot believe this," exclaimed Bonnie. She was carrying a rolled up magazine in her hand and gestured to it as she talked. "It's a travesty, is what it is. An absolute social catastrophe."

"What is it now, Bonnie?" asked Señor Senior, making no effort to hide his impatience at this latest personal crisis. It seemed as if Bonnie had three or four of them a day. When his son started to date the young girl, Senior made the unfortunate, but inevitable discovery that Bonnie Rockwaller was very demanding, ready to complain about anything and everything that didn't conform to what she thought the world should be. Now that she had access to vast amounts of money, Bonnie was more than willing to spend every penny making sure the world revolved around her.

"Look at this." The snarky teen shoved the magazine under Señor Senior's nose. The cover showed Kim Possible standing in front of a building that had burned to the ground. Firemen could be seen in the background putting out the last of the flames. Kim's mission outfit was torn and dirtied, her face covered with soot and her hair was completely frizzed, but she was smiling widely as she squatted down among a ring of children all trying to hug her at once.

"Teen Hero Saves Orphan Children From Blaze," read Senior, nodding in approval. Junior got up from his lounge chair to look over his father's shoulder. "A job well done; I'd expect nothing less."

"Yeah, whatever," said Bonnie, rolling her eyes. "Just look at her outfit. It's nothing but rags. Not that it was any better before the fire. And she's filthy. I mean, it's bad enough that Kim is on the cover of a magazine and I'm not, but the least she could do is clean herself up first. This brings down the good name of cheerleaders everywhere; it's so typically selfish of her."

Knowing it was pointless to argue, Señor Senior just handed the magazine back to Bonnie and resumed his pacing once again. Junior, however, gently put his hands on Bonnie's shoulders and sought to reassure his girlfriend. "Do not worry. If it will make you happy, I will buy you this magazine company and order them to not print anymore pictures of Kim Possible ever again."

Bonnie put her hands on Junior's chest and flashed a wicked grin. "Oh Junior, you'd do that for me? That would show little Miss I-can-do-anything, wouldn't it?"

"Then, once you own the magazine, you can put your own picture on the cover of every issue."

Now Bonnie was practically wriggling with excitement. "You are so brilliant, baby. I'd look much better on the cover, wouldn't I?"

"But of course. You are so much the prettier one." Junior turned to Senior and asked, "Father, do you not think my Bonnie is better looking than Kim Possible?"

"Yes, yes, she is beautiful," agreed Senior distractedly as he tried to concentrate on figuring out how to get the tiara. Abruptly, he stopped in his tracks. His eyes widened as the perfect plan suddenly occurred to him. "In fact," he said with the smile of a used car salesman, "you are quite possibly the most beautiful young woman I have ever laid eyes on."

"Well, thank you very much," said Bonnie with a very satisfied smile.

"Miss Rockwaller," continued Senior, "Have you ever considered participating in a beauty pageant?"

"Actually," said Bonnie, "I did win several pageants when I was younger, but I haven't entered in a while."

"Why not, my sweet?" asked Junior. "Surely there is no one who could compare to you."

"Of course not," Bonnie said. "But the pageant commission forced me to retire my crown."

"Why?"

"Oh, I don't know," sniffed Bonnie. "Something about a scandal and legal action or some other lame excuse like that."

"Well, my dear," said Senior as he put an arm around Bonnie's shoulders, "I do believe it's time for you to come out of retirement."

* * *

_So, there it is. What do you think so far? In the next chapter, Kim and Ron are called in to protect the tiara and to figure out who tried to steal it. As always, reviews and constructive criticism are always welcome._


	2. Chapter 2 - Makeup and Wardrobe

_Hello again, all! Well, Chapter 1 of my story seemed to go over well. Thank you to all who read and reviewed it. I present to you now, Chapter 2. In this chapter, Kim and Ron are called onto the scene and get ready to infiltrate the beauty pageant. It's mostly exposition, but with a healthy dose of comedy and a little romance thrown in. Enjoy._

* * *

**Chapter 2 - Makeup and Wardrobe**

The ruckus of alarms and the spectacle of the Seniors flying off into the night created quite a stir among the people outside the fashion studio and it wasn't long before news about the break in became common knowledge. The rumor mill was in full force as people in the streets accused everyone from disgruntled customers to rival designers as being the culprits.

In almost no time, a mob had formed in front of the studio and people pressed up against each other, eagerly trying to get a look at the crime scene. Or, perhaps, get a look at Marcus Dubois, the fashion designer himself, who had just arrived. Either way, they were sorely disappointed as the police barricade prevented anyone from getting near the place. Anyone, that is, except a certain pair of teenagers: a red headed girl wearing a purple shirt and black pants and a blond haired boy in a black t-shirt and grey cargos.

When Mr. Dubois had been contacted about the attempted robbery, he had rushed down to his studio to see with his own eyes that his precious tiara was still there. The police chief had assured the designer that his boys in blue would do everything within their power to catch the would-be thieves. Mr. Dubois had no doubt that they would, but as an added precaution - and with complete support from the chief - he had called in Team Possible, who now stood with the designer in his office.

Kim Possible held her Kimmunicator out at arm's length as a beam of green light swept the room. "Got anything, Wade?"

The 12-year-old super genius shook his head as he replied, "Afraid not, Kim. All I was able to find were the empty smoke pellets and those won't tell us anything. They're common equipment - available anywhere and untraceable."

"What about security camera footage?"

"No cameras in the office and the ones in the hallway were disabled when the alarms were shorted out."

"Not good," mused Kim. "We're obviously dealing with professionals here. They knew exactly how to get into the office undetected."

"Yeah and then they tripped at the one yard line," said Ron, pointing to the shredded remains of the net that had held Junior. "How good could they be?"

"Good enough that they might succeed if given a second chance," said Kim grimly. "Mr. Dubois, you should lock this tiara up in a more secure location until we catch these guys."

"No, no," said Mr. Dubois. The fashion designer had been hovering around the pedestal which still held the tiara, protecting it like a mother bird with her eggs. Now he clamped his arms around the glass case, as if Kim might whisk the jeweled headdress away from him. "This tiara is destined for the winner of my annual Miss Fabulous international beauty pageant."

"Can't you just keep it hidden until after the show?" suggested Ron.

Mr. Dubois acted as if Ron had stabbed him in the stomach. "Ah, no that is impossible," he wailed dramatically. "Everyone at the pageant will expect to see it. I cannot conceal a stunning piece of art such as this from the world."

"I feel the same way about the macaroni collages I made back in kindergarten," the teen boy said solemnly.

"Well, if you insist on having the tiara at the show," said Kim to Dubois, "Ron and I better be there for extra security."

"I would be most appreciative, Miss Possible," said Mr. Dubois with a wide smile.

As Kim and Ron left the studio, they discussed their plan of action. "I'll have Mr. Dubois provide us with tickets to the pageant," said Kim as she slid behind the steering wheel of her Roth SL Coupe, otherwise known as The Sloth. "We'll be able to keep an eye on the tiara from the audience."

"KP, that's no good," said Ron, sitting in the passenger side of the car.

"And why is that?" asked Kim with a raised eyebrow.

Ignoring his girlfriend's irritated tone, Ron explained, "We won't be able to see anything that way. Audience members aren't allowed backstage. What we need to do is go undercover in the show."

"I thought of that, Ron, but we'd need to get someone to pose as a contestant. Who would we get on such short notice?"

Her boyfriend just looked at Kim in utter disbelief. "You're kidding, right?"

"What?" asked Kim, completely bewildered.

"You, Kim!" shouted Ron. "You pose as the contestant."

The teen hero's green eyes widened in shock. "Me?" Ron nodded his head in encouragement as Kim furiously shook hers in denial. "No. No way. I can't do that."

"Uh, yes you can, KP. Remember, you can do anything."

"Not this," the teen hero muttered, but it was way too low for Ron to hear.

With the flick of a switch, Wade's face popped up on The Sloth's communication screen. "Wade, my man," said Ron, "Can you do your hacker thingy and add Kim as a contestant in the beauty pageant?"

"Not a problem," boasted the computer guru. "A few simple key strokes and Kim's name will be on the registrar before morning."

"No, don't!"

Both boys jerked their heads to stare at Kim who had a look of pure wild-eyed horror. Quickly composing herself, she said, in a much calmer tone, "I just meant that if my name is down as a contestant, that might scare the thieves away." Suddenly, Kim's face brightened like she'd just thought of the greatest idea ever. "In fact, I can't even go on stage since the thieves will no doubt recognize me. Too bad. Guess we'll have to stick to being in the audience."

"No worries, Kim," said Wade. "I've been working on a new type of disguise for you that's absolutely foolproof."

"Alright Wade!" cheered Ron, pumping his fist in the air. "You rock."

"Yeah," said Kim with a lot less enthusiasm. "Hoorah."

* * *

It was the next morning and Kim was in front of her computer screen which showed her genius friend, as always, sitting in his own room surrounded by an entire Best Buy's worth of electronic equipment.

"Okay, Wade, let's see what you got for me", she said with a flat tone and a resigned sigh. The young hero was usually so gung-ho before a mission, but right now you'd think she was getting ready to go to another Little Rocket Boosters Day with her father.

In contrast, Ron, who had been lounging on Kim's bed, sat up straight, all bright-eyed and eager to see what new wonders Wade had cooked up for them. "Yeah, bring it on, dude!"

Although, to be honest, Ron would have been just as excited if they actually were going to the Little Rocket Boosters. He just loved those rocked-shaped cookies.

"Feast your eyes on this." With a grand flourish, Wade pressed a button on his console and both teen heroes turned to see a secret compartment in the back of the Kim's closet automatically open. Hanging inside the small chamber was a single garment. A white body suit, similar to a scuba suit, with blue rings around the arms and blue pads on the elbows and knees. A thick belt hung loosely around the waist.

"The battle suit?" Despite her reluctance to this mission, Kim couldn't help but feel just a little let down. She looked over at Ron and saw the same disappointment mirrored on his face. They had been expecting some cool new gadget and besides, the battle suit was known to be a bit...glitchy.

Wade noticed the embarrassed silence from his two friends. "What? What's the matter?"

Ron decided to be the one to bring up the issue. "Well, no offence Wade, but ever since the whole 'secret borrowing' incident" - Ron made sure to use air quotes - "the super suit just hasn't been its super self."

The young genius crossed his pudgy arms and scowled out from the computer. "Well, whose fault is that, _Ron_?"

"Oh, oh, I see," said the teenage boy. "Passing the buck. Real mature, Wade."

"Wade," Kim said in a calm voice, striving to play the mediator. "In between trying to shift the blame to someone else, Ron makes a good point. The battle suit has had its share of problems in the past."

"That kind of sensitive technology isn't easy to repair," Wade cried in his defense. "If the nanotropic pathways for the micro-altering stabilizers aren't correctly calibrated then the positronic outflow can..." Wade stopped when he saw the lost looks on his two friends and decided to drop the issue. "Besides, this isn't even the same suit. It's a brand new one."

"That's thoughtful and all, Wade," said Kim, "but I don't think this mission calls for something so drastic."

"Don't be so sure, Kim," Ron exclaimed. "Some of these competitions can get pretty wild. There was this one where the girls were chasing each other with big wooden sticks."

"Ron, you're thinking of the field hockey game we went to last week.

"Oh, yeah," said Ron, scratching his head. "Still don't think you can call it hockey if there's no ice."

"Anyway," said Wade, trying to get the conversation back on track. "This suit isn't designed for battle. It's your outfit for the pageant." At Kim's skeptical glance, he added, "Go on, check it out."

Kim carefully lifted the white and blue suit off its hanger, stretching the fabric and rubbing it between her thumb and index finger. She could definitely tell it was different. The material of her original battle suit was hard and durable, but flexible, like leather armor. This suit felt softer than silk, almost as if it was made of liquid. In-between the fabric, Kim could feel very thin wires running the complete length of the suit.

"Those are the morphing transceivers," explained Wade. "You know how the hands of the battle suit can change shape?" Kim nodded, remembering the arm scoop that allowed her to throw blaster fire back at her opponents. "Well, I modified the design to encompass the entire suit and programmed in several different clothing styles."

"So, this suit changes into different outfits?" asked Kim, slightly in awe.

"A complete wardrobe all in one," Wade said.

"Spankin'," crowed Kim. Her expression fell as she realized something. "Wait..._you_ programmed the clothing styles? Wade, what do you know about fashion?"

"Absolutely nothing," he said, looking quite proud of that fact. "So, I called in an expert." In a flash, the image on the computer screen split. One side still showed Wade surrounded by his tech; the other showed the dark-skinned face of Kim's best female friend, Monique.

"Hey there, girlfriend," Monique said happily.

"Hey, Mon," Kim replied. "You're the fashion expert Wade called?"

"Hey, who better to call than the best," Monique said with a smirk. "You know I'm always happy to help you on your missions any way I can as long as it doesn't involve fighting villains, dodging death traps or jumping out of airplanes."

"Hey, how come she gets to opt out of the airplane jumping?" groused Ron.

Kim waved a hand at her boyfriend, shushing him. Despite herself, Kim was started to feel excited for this mission; Monique's designs were always top notch. "So, let's see your latest masterpieces."

"Just push one of the buttons on the suit's belt," said Wade.

"And prepare to be amazed," added Monique.

Kim did as directed. The pageant suit gave a full length shutter and instantly morphed into a beautiful white ball gown with a blue trim along the hem and neckline. The dress was puffy, but not so much as to impede movement. Straps on the back of the dress would make sure the wearer's arms and shoulders were completely bare.

"This is your basic ballroom gown," narrated Monique. "Perfect for showing off your charm and grace while gliding across the dance floor."

"Nice, Monique. Very nice," praised Kim as she twisted the dress around in her hands.

"You'll look badical in that, KP," agreed Ron.

"Easy kids," said Monique. "There's a lot more where that came from."

With each press of a button, the suit transformed into one outfit after another. There was another, slimmer dress similar to the one Kim had worn to her prom, a cowgirl outfit reminiscent of her cousin, Joss, a gymnast's leotard, a cheerleader outfit and even a crisp three-piece suit.

"Do you really think I'll need all these?" Kim asked as the suit changed yet again, this time into a 1950's style miniskirt.

"I guess it is a bit much," Monique admitted. "Once I got started, I just couldn't stop. Besides, most of them are for the talent portion of the pageant. I didn't know what you were going to do, so I made sure you were RFA."

"RFA?" wondered Ron.

"Ready for anything," Monique said.

"You rock the catwalk, Monique," said Kim. "I appreciate all you've done."

"Oh, hey," said Monique, waving her hand to dismiss her friend's praise. "You know me - any contribution I can make to the cause of justice."

"Yeah, that," said Wade with a wink, "and you're hoping that your designs are noticed by Coco Banana, who's rumored to be one of the pageant judges this year."

Monique glared at Wade's half of the computer screen and then turned to Kim with an apologetic look. "Just trying to pad my resume." Her eyes went wide as she remembered, "Oh, I almost forgot the most important outfit of all. Push the last button on the left."

Kim did and the suit shrunk and split into a white and blue, two-piece bikini. It wasn't skimpy, but it was far from modest. Like the ball gown, it was designed to keep the neck and shoulders bare. The bottom was held on by two very thin pairs of strings.

"Uh, Monique," said Kim. She held the swim suit up to her body and noticed how little it would actually cover. "Don't you think this is a little too revealing?"

The fashion expert looked at Kim as if she'd gone crazy. "What are you talking about, girl? This is no time to be modest. If you've got it, flaunt it."

"I don't want to flaunt it in front of a crowd," Kim shot back. A deep feeling of panic threatening to creep into her mind; it took a ferocious mental effort to push it back down. "I...I just don't think I could do this suit justice."

"Okay, now you're just trippin'," said Monique in annoyance. "Wade, you think Kim would look good in that suit, don't you?"

"Not getting involved," was Wade's short answer. He was staring at his own computer and determinedly not looking over at Kim. "I know better than to get in the middle of this argument. I'm not a genius for nothing.

"Coward," spat Monique. "Let's ask the person whose opinion really matters."

"Yes," agreed Kim as she turned towards her boyfriend. "Ron, do you think this is really me?" she asked, giving the bikini a shake for emphasis.

But if either Kim or Monique were expecting a verbal response from Ron, they had a long wait ahead of them. The teenage boy was still sitting on Kim's bed, but he was no longer relaxing. His entire body had gone stiff as soon as he'd seen the bikini and he'd yet to summon the strength to tear his eyes from it. It didn't help that his girlfriend was pressing it tightly against her curvaceous form.

"Ron?"

"Uh...uh..."

"Ron? Sweetie?"

"K...swim...b...duh..."

"Yo, Ron, snap out of it, boy!"

Monique's shout seemed to do just that. Ron shook his head and was finally able to utter a somewhat more comprehensible sentence.

"Uh...What were we talking about?"

"About how much you were drooling over Kim," Monique deadpanned.

"Monique, he was not," chastised Kim. "Now, Ron, what do you think about this swim suit?"

"Um...," Ron raised his left hand and placed his right over his heart. "I respectfully refuse to answer that question on the grounds that I might start drooling again."

"Ha!" Monique pumped her arms and cheered. "I told you."

"Whatever," said Kim indifferently, although she could not stop a slight blush from creeping up on her cheeks. "Fine, I'll wear it, but I'm still not sure I can pull this off."

"Kim, please don't say things like that," Ron whined. "My mind is in serious danger of entering 'black hole deep' territory as it is."

With a light laugh, Kim decided to have pity on her boyfriend and returned the pageant suit to its original state.

"Thank you," said Ron as he heaved a physical and mental sigh of relief, but he couldn't keep back a hint of regret as he continued, "You know, KP, it's a good thing I'm not the jealous type."

"What do you mean?" asked Kim.

"Once you get on stage, nobody's going to be looking at any of the other girls," Ron replied with a knowing grin.

Instead of feeling pride at her boyfriend's compliment, Kim could feel the panic start to bubble up again. Placing the pageant suit back on its hanger, she said, "The suit is great, Wade, but people will still see who I am. I thought you said you were working on some new disguise."

"I am," Wade assured her. "Well, we are. My new interns and I."

"Interns?" asked Kim. "Since when are we a business?"

"Dibs on the office by the vending machines," Ron shouted.

Rufus, Ron's pet naked mole rat, popped out of his pocket, licking his lips. "Mmmm, candy."

"They're more like Team Possible tech guys in training," explained Wade. "Now that I'm going out into the field more often, I thought it would be a good idea to have a couple of backup geniuses for emergencies."

Kim had to admit that sounded like a pretty good idea. "So, who did you get?"

The trap door to her attic room burst open and her twin brothers, Jim and Tim Possible appeared. "Surprise!" they shouted in unison.

"The Tweebs?!" Kim was flabbergasted.

"This won't end well," muttered Ron.

"Oh, big trouble," agreed Rufus.

"We were so glad to finally join the team," said Jim, completely ignoring his sister's shocked expression.

"We're got some great ideas for new equipment," said Tim.

Kim, who could only image what kind of horrors her brothers could cook up, turned to the computer and raged, "Wade, how could you ask my brothers to help without okaying it with me first?"

"Well, obviously I would have asked you if I thought you'd say yes," said Wade, not looking the least bit abashed or embarrassed.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Kim struggled not to say something she'd regret.

"Calm down, Kim," said Wade. "Jim and Tim have promised not to use any materials that are explosive, corrosive or combustible."

"Oh, well, let me put on my relieved face, then."

Ron got off the bed and leaned in close to Kim. Her eyes were narrowed and her skin was taunt. Her lips were pressed together into a very thin line. "Uh, KP, your face doesn't look that relieved to me."

Kim whipped her head towards Ron and growled.

Ron quickly backpedaled and held his hands up in defense. When he was sure it was safe and he wasn't about to be attacked, he went behind his girlfriend and gently massaged her shoulders. "Why don't we see what they've come up with?" he suggested carefully.

Under Ron's caring ministrations, Kim had no choice but to relax, breathing out a loud gust of air as she did. "Okay," she said in defeat, throwing a slight smile over her shoulder. "Alright, Tweebs, what have you got."

The two boys grinned at each other as Jim pulled a long, thin box from behind his back.

Being extremely careful, wary of any kind of booby trap or prank, Kim took the box and opened it. Inside was a simple, but elegant silver necklace with a single large emerald and two smaller blue stones on either side. Kim could tell the rocks were fake, but they shone as brightly as any stone on the jewel-encrusted tiara had.

"Wow," breathed the teenage girl. "This is gorgeous."

"Just a little something I whipped up," said Monique. "With a shape shifting wardrobe, you need something that goes with anything."

"It's not just a piece of jewelry," said Jim. "Try it on, Sis." Tim nodded his head eagerly.

"Allow me, Milady." Ron jumped forward and snagged the necklace from the case. Rolling her eyes, but nonetheless touched at his display of chivalry, Kim pulled her long hair to the side as Ron gently placed the accessory around her neck. As soon as the jewels touched her skin, Kim felt a wave of heat flow over her face followed by an intense itchiness. The sensation was gone before she could raise her hand to scratch, but it left a tingling on her skin.

"Alright! It worked!" shouted Tim. "Hicka bicka boo!

"Hoosha!" replied his brother with a high five.

"Jim, Tim, what did you do?" Kim demanded. Getting nothing but wide grins as an answer, Kim turned to Ron. "Ron, what happened? Is my face green or something? Do I look like some monster movie reject?"

Ron pointed to the mirror on Kim's dresser and said, "KP, you've got to see this for yourself."

Fearing the worst, Kim angrily stalked over to her mirror, but her scowl changed to wide-eyed surprise when she saw her reflection. Her flaming red hair had lightened to a platinum blonde. Green eyes were now a deep sapphire blue; the same color as the gems on the necklace. Kim's face had become a little longer and her cheekbones stood out a little more. Her lips were puffier too; rivals for any movie star.

"Kim Possible, say hello to Anya Leavible," pronounced Wade.

"How?" asked Kim as she felt around the new landscape of her face.

"The necklace utilizes the same nano-morphing technology Camille Leon has," said Tim.

"You know, the heiress we found out was a shape shifter," said Jim. "And you didn't."

"They're never going to let you live that down, are they?" commented Ron.

"Doubtful," said Kim, taking off the necklace. She felt every muscle in her face relax and soon she looked like her normal self. "I hate to admit it, but you guys did good. At least it'll keep anyone from recognizing me."

"A compliment from our sister," Jim said in mock awe.

"We should get it in writing," said Tim.

"Don't push it, Tweebs," Kim warned.

"Good luck at the pageant, Kim," said Wade.

"Don't forget, girl - flaunt it," said Monique before she and Wade both signed off.

"So, what time should we be ready to go?" asked Jim.

"By 'we', I hope you mean me, Ron and Rufus because the two of you aren't going," said Kim.

"What?!" cried Tim, absolutely outraged. "But we're team members now."

"Team members in training," clarified Kim. "Which means you don't get to go into the field just yet."

"Yeah, you need to build up your seniority first," said Ron, once again laying on the bed.

"That's bogus," fumed Jim. "Give us one good reason why we can't go."

Kim let her lips curve into a wide smile as she moved over to her closet. "Because, dear brothers, at the pageant, I will be wearing this." Pressing the last button on the left, Kim turned the morphing suit back into the bikini.

Jim and Tim took one look at that swim suit and their eyes bugged out as their faces twisted into twin horrified expressions.

"S-sister..."

"...Bikini..."

"Mental image!" they shouted together and ran out of the room with their hands clamped tight over their eyes.

"So immature," said Kim, feeling very proud of herself for getting the drop on her brothers for a change. "Come on, Ron, let's get ready. Ron? Ron?"

The teenage boy was unable to answer as he was once again giving the white and blue bikini his undivided attention.

* * *

_And there you have it. I hope you liked it. Next time, the pageant show begins and we'll see if Kim's disguise is good enough to fool Bonnie and the Seniors. While you wait for the next chapter, I invite you to check out my other KP stories or my Smash Bros. story: Subspace Redux, which I am currently writing the next chapter of. As always, reviews and constructive criticism are appreciated._


	3. Chapter 3 - Grace and Poise

_Hello and welcome to the next chapter in my KP fic, Fairest of Them All. I'd like to thank everyone who had read and reviewed my story so far. And a special thank you to ClassicCartoon27 for being my beta reader for this chapter. Last time, Kim was preparing to enter the Miss Fabulous beauty pageant with the help of Wade's shape-changing super suit and her brother's face-changing necklace. Kim appeared to be a bit nervous, though, and now you'll get to find out why. The contest begins now! On to Chapter 3._

_I do not own Kim Possible._

* * *

**Chapter 3 - Grace and Poise**

"_Welcome, one and all, to the fifth annual Miss Fabulous Beauty Pageant!_"

The crowd surrounding the outside arena met this announcement with enthusiastic, albeit widely varying, responses. The rich businessmen and social acolytes reclining in the comfortable $500-a-head seats clapped politely and nodded regally at each other. Many were entrepreneurs in the fashion trade; the Miss Fabulous Pageant was the highlight of the fashion world and much money stood to be made on the outcome. The winner would automatically be known as the most beautiful girl in the world and many a businessman sat ready with a modeling contract tucked secretly away in their jacket pocket.

Beside these clothing capitalists sat their wives and girlfriends, decked out in their own original one-of-a-kind attire, designed by the very best in the business as any of them would gladly tell you. The dresses were made of the finest materials and stitched together with the utmost care, but they'd be tossed aside like old rags once some particular outfit in the pageant caught the lady's eye. The women sat in groups of three or four, sounding like flocks of mockingbirds as they chatting in hushed tones.

Such quiet conversations were nearly drowned out by the boisterous cheering and screaming of the local teens and young men who formed a ring around the fenced perimeter of the pageant stage. Fashion was not high on their list of worries, but a contest full of pretty girls could hardly escape their notice. They couldn't have cared less what the girls wore on stage, but each male had the same thought: the less, the better. Several tried to climb over the fence or jump over it from overhanging tree branches, but all were caught by the security guards who, even as they were throwing the boys out, couldn't seem to keep their eyes off the stage.

The excitement was palpable backstage as well as each young girl milled about behind the curtain, eagerly awaiting their turn to go out and "strut their stuff" as Monique had said. All except one girl, anyways. Kim Possible, in her guise as Anya Leavible, stood on the side of the stage as far into the shadows as she could. Drawing the curtains back the tiniest bit, she gazed out into the audience.

Marcus Dubois sat in a seat in the center of the front row. His arms were crossed tightly and his foot absently bouncing up and down, a look of nervous anticipation on his face. Kim knew the designer's anxiety had little to do with the show. His eyes kept darting to the tiara sitting on its pedestal on the far side of the stage, surrounded by four burly guards. Dubois' caught Kim's eye. He had been notified of her plan to infiltrate the pageant and offered only the smallest of smiles before his gaze went back to the jeweled crown.

Directly in front of Dubois' seat was the judges table. On the left side of the table was Francois, the hair stylist from Paris, France. He'd managed to clear his extremely tight schedule to come today, plus he also considered his attendance to be a matter of business professionalism. Le Goop was the preferred brand of hair gel for most models. Next to him was pop culture sensation Britina, fresh off the set of her newest music video. A lot of the guys were whooping at her as much as at the contestants. Finally, Moinique's idol, Coco Banana, Club Banana's Chief Fashion Designer, completed the trio. Towering behind him was his ever-present white-suited assistant staring expressionlessly forward behind a pair of dark sunglasses.

Kim could count both Francois and Britina among her friends and knew Coco Banana to be a friendly, if eccentric, person, but at that moment, they were scarier than Diablo robots and giant roaches combined.

As the MC announced the next contestant, Kim shifted her attention back to the stage. Like all the other young women, this one was absolutely stunning. She walked across the stage like she owned it. Back straight, head up, she moved with the fluid motions of a feline. The contestant shook her head slightly, allowing the wind to pass through her raven mane, each hair seeming to glisten in the sunlight. Her skin was pale like alabaster and just as smooth with nary a wrinkle or blemish to be found. A dazzling smile lit up her face showcasing perfectly straight, gleaming white teeth. The contestant's dress - which Kim was sure cost more than she'd ever paid for clothes in her life - fit snuggly around a tiny waist and robust chest.

Kim glanced down at her own body and cringed at what she saw. Her figure was more muscular rather than the petit, well developed women in the contest. Scars and bruises marked her body due to unblocked punches and kicks from Shego, Monkey Fist or any number of henchmen - an unavoidable consequence of her job. There weren't many and most were so faded you couldn't see them, but in Kim's mind, they were all too obvious. She suddenly wished that the necklace her brother's made could alter her body as well as her face.

An unfamiliar twinge of doubt wormed its way into the young girl's stomach. She hadn't been this apprehensive since Junior Prom. Thin, strong fingers stretched the curtain fabric so much it threatened to rip. She couldn't seem to slow her breathing down. _You've got to get a grip on yourself, Kim_, she scolded herself. _This is a mission just like any other._ _You cannot afford to be this nervous. You will _not_ be nervous._ By sheer force of will, Kim got her heart to stop thumping and her fingers to stop twitching. She took a deep breath and slowly let it out, relaxing all her muscles. _Okay, I think I've got it handled._

"Yo, KP."

"Yaaah!" Kim spun around, ready to unleash some serious kung fu on whoever had managed to sneak up behind her. Her fist was a mere inch away from the person's face when she realized it was Ron.

The young man jumped back, hands held up in submission. "Whoa there, KP, didn't mean to startle ya."

"Ron!" Kim immediately dropped her arms, face flush with embarrassment. "I'm sorry, I thought you were..." Her voice trailed off as she noticed Ron's outfit. His usual mission clothes had been replaced with a pair of lime green plaid slacks and a striped shirt with too many colors on it to count. A brown overcoat that was at least two sizes too large hung over his shoulders. Ron's face was hidden behind a pair of rhinestone sunglasses and a brown fedora hat sat atop his blonde head.

"Ron," said Kim, averting her eyes to avoid staring at him, "What exactly are you wearing?"

"Well, since your brothers didn't make me any of that nanotech bling," said Ron with the slightest hint of disappointment, "I had to come up with my own disguise."

"You do know that the point of a disguise is to _not_ attract attention," said Kim.

"Ah, come on, Kim," said Ron, spreading his arms out. "This is what all managers wear these days."

"Manager?"

"That's right," said Ron happily. "I am Anya Leavible's manager."

Rufus popped out of Ron's jacket pocket sporting the same hat and sunglasses. "Mm hmm, do lunch."

"Ron, I don't need a manager," said Kim.

"Sure you do. All the big name stars have one."

"I'm not a big name star."

"Not yet, but that's where I come in." Rufus handed Ron a pocket calendar with several scribbles in the margins and circled dates.

"I've got it all planned out," said Ron as he flipped through the calendar. "I did some research on beauty pageants on the internet last night." Ron noticed Kim's sour look. "Only for the articles, I swear! I didn't even glance at the photos." Clearing his throat, Ron continued. "Anyway, I found out there's a whole bunch of international pageants that you could win hands down. Think about it KP; today Miss Fabulous, tomorrow Miss World!"

Kim rolled her eyes and turned back to the audience. "How about if we just concentrate on this pageant and finding out who's trying to steal the tiara?"

"Oh that, yeah, it's the Seniors," said Ron as if it was the most obvious thing ever.

Kim paused to think about that. "It would fit their style of high-profile crimes," she mused. "But how can you be so sure."

"Because of who just walked backstage." Ron pointed over to his right and Kim's jaw dropped to see her high school rival, Bonnie Rockwaller, stomping across the wooden floor with an ugly scowl on her face. With her was an young man in his twenties and an older gentleman; Kim recognized them immediately as Señor Senior, Senior and Señor Senior, Junior. Both were wearing dark business suits and while Senior was trying to stay in the background, Junior was shouting at everyone to make way for his girlfriend and future pageant winner.

"Finally, I thought we'd never get here," groused Bonnie. "All those stupid cars gumming up the highway. Didn't those peons know I had somewhere to be?"

"Events such as this do tend to generate quite a bit of traffic, Miss Rockwaller," said Señor Senior with obviously strained patience.

Bonnie was not moved by his argument. "Whatever. Couldn't you have just bought the street and kicked everyone else off of it?"

Señor Senior ignored her. On the entire ride to the pageant, he'd had to put up with this girl griping and moaning and complaining about every little thing. It wasn't good enough that he'd custom ordered her dress form Paris or that he'd hired the longest limo available to chauffer them. Sometimes he wondered how his son could stand listening to it, but the young man hung on Bonnie's every word.

"Is there anything you need, my sweet?" Junior asked lovingly.

"If you can find me something to drink in this place..." Bonnie said dismissively.

"Right away, my love." As Junior scurried off, Bonnie carefully scanned her competition, if she could call it that. Even though it had been a while since she participated, Bonnie kept in touch with the pageant world through magazines and news reports. She recognized most everyone backstage and could say with complete confidence that none of them could hold a candle to her.

There was, however, the matter of the last minute entry, Anya Leavible. Bonnie had never heard of her before. Most likely, she had a rich or influential relative who'd managed to get her in. Bonnie smirked; another wannabe who just assumed she'd flash a pretty smile and steal the crown. The young woman had encountered enough of those during her time as a pageant contestant and she'd showed them who was boss. The problem was, Anya Leavible was gorgeous, even Bonnie had to admit that. More importantly, though, was that Bonnie knew nothing about her. She'd studied the other contestants and knew their every move, but Leavible was an unknown factor, a wild card, and someone like that had brought down many a champion. She had to do something to neutralize this potential threat.

Being at the top of the high school food chain and observing students for four years, Bonnie had learned to pick up subtle signs from others. Thus, she was able to see how tense Leavible was, despite how she tried to hide it. This was probably Leavible's first real competition and with the entire fashion world looking at her, the poor girl's insecurities must be raging unchecked. Time to help fester those doubts.

Putting on her best smile, Bonnie sauntered over to the corner where Anya Leavible was standing with some guy wearing the tackiest outfit imaginable. Her opponent saw Bonnie coming and a brief flash of hesitation and possibly fear flashed across the other young woman's face. Bonnie managed not to smirk; they hadn't even said hello yet and this girl was afraid of her, as was only right. "Hi there," Bonnie said in a voice dripping with fake sweetness. "I don't believe we've met. I'm Bonnie Rockwaller."

Anya eyed Bonnie's outstretched hand with suspicion, but grasped it without hesitation. Bonnie had to struggle not to wince at the strength in that handshake; she wouldn't give the other girl that satisfaction.

"How do you do? I am Anya Leavible." Kim knew Bonnie couldn't identify her because of her necklace, but she was worried that her rival might recognize her voice. So, she tried to speak with an accent that was supposed to be Russian, but ended up sounding like a bad Zsa Zsa Gabor imitation. Bonnie seemed to buy it, though.

The young brunette circled Kim, looking her up and down. "Your dress; who made it?"

"An up-and-coming designer. Her work has already caught the eye of many fashion experts." Technically true. Monique did once receive props from Coco Banana for her taste in clothes and Mr. Dubois had said how much he loved the blue and white ball gown.

A knowing smirk appeared on Bonnie's lips. "Amateur work, huh?" She didn't give Kim time to respond, but instead spun around to show off the dress she was wearing: a pink gown similar to Kim's with lace along the hem and real gold spun within the seams. "This dress was hand crafted just for me from the top designers in Paris. I'd tell you who they are, but I doubt you've heard of them."

Kim was more than used to Bonnie's condescending attitude, but that didn't make it any easier to take. "Oh, you'd be surprised," said Kim with her own fake smile.

"I doubt that," Bonnie replied dismissively. "So, have you ever even been in a beauty pageant before?"

Before Kim could answer, Ron stepped up and said, "Are you kidding? Why Miss Leavible's been in pageants all over the place, winning all sorts of crowns and titles and sashes and stuff."

"Really?" asked Bonnie, clearly not believing a word. "And where exactly were these pageants?"

"Ummm." Ron's eyes darted about and he had to exercise tremendous will power not to rub his nose. That move always gave him away when he was lying. "Uh, nowhere you've ever heard of, I'm sure," he said, hopping that turning Bonnie's own words against her would make her drop the subject.

It didn't.

"Try me," Bonnie challenged.

"Uh...Heresville and...There Town."

The smile on Bonnie's smug face couldn't get much wider. "Look, you're obviously new at this, so let me give you some free advice." The young lady lowered her voice and her fake sweetness disappeared. "You may have won a few rinky-dink beauty pageants in your hometown of Hicksville, but this is the big time. These contests can get pretty vicious and girls that are, shall we say, delicate, don't usually last very long. Are you sure you won't fold under the pressure?"

"I'm sure I can handle it," said Kim through gritted teeth.

"We'll see." And off Bonnie walked with a flip of her hair.

"So, Bon-Bon's like that with everyone she meets," Ron said. He feigned a hurt look. "And here I thought we were special to her."

"Who does she think she is?" raged Kim, not bothering to care if her rival was within earshot. Kim's entire face was flush with anger and Ron could swear he saw steam coming out of her ears. "Amateur. Delicate. I'll show her who's delicate!" Kim had shouted that last sentence and Ron had to grab hold of his girlfriend to stop her from kung fu-ing Bonnie out of existence.

"Chillax, KP. Now who's not keeping a low profile?"

Ron's words penetrated Kim's red-eyed haze and she slowly got herself under control. Enough at least that she could resist the urge to rip out Bonnie's voice box. Ron slipped his arms around his girlfriend's waist and held her gently, but firmly. "I've never seen Bonnie get you so riled up."

"If she wins, I'll never hear the end of it," Kim said in disgust. "It'll be all over the school. Bonnie will be calling me up in the middle of the night to brag about it."

"Yeah, I know how much you hate those late night calls." Ron rested his chin on Kim's shoulder and nuzzled his nose against her neck. "Well, the only thing to do is to win the pageant. Then Bonnie will have nothing to brag about."

For a moment, Kim allowed herself to ponder that. It would be nice to win the pageant in addition to protecting the tiara, but Kim knew her chances of that were slim at best. This wasn't like a cheerleader competition; her looks counted much more than her talent did here. And while some boys found her attractive, and Ron was constantly telling her that she was the prettiest girl he'd ever seen, Kim could never see herself that way. And she was sure the judges wouldn't see her that way either.

Of course, it wasn't really her they'd be seeing, was it? Kim's hand went to the cybertronic accessory around her neck. As her fingers traced the inlaid jewels, she thought back to yesterday when she'd first seen Anya Leavible in her mirror. Now there was a beautiful girl. That face could win a pageant for sure. Which meant Kim could win, couldn't she? It wasn't her face, but it was still Kim. That counted, didn't it?

"Hey, KP?" Her boyfriend's voice snapped Kim out of her thoughts. "You zoned out for a minute there and that's usually my job. What'cha thinking about?"

"Oh, um, just going over our plan for the mission, Ron."

"Uh huh. Yeah, that answer might be believable to someone who hasn't known you their entire lives." Kim wasn't looking at Ron, but she could hear the smirk in his voice. "How 'bout you tell me what's really eating you?"

The teen hero sighed and placed her hands atop of Ron's, drawing strength from that simple touch as she'd done countless times before. The other girls at school would whine about how their boyfriends were insensitive and how they wished the boys could tell what the girls were thinking. Kim could attest that such skills had their drawbacks when trying to keep secrets.

Admitting to fear and insecurity was not something that Kim Possible did. It was a sign of weakness and in her line of work, any vulnerability was a liability; something her enemies could use against her. So she kept them bottled up. Ron, on the other hand, wore his fears on his sleeve and had no problems voicing them. Often accompanied by girly shrieking. But that just made it easier for him to deal with his fears. He didn't let them stop him. Surely Ron would understand where Kim was coming from. He wouldn't laugh or belittle her if she confessed.

"Ron, I..."

_Beep Beep Be Beep_

Acting on deep rooted instinct, Kim broke free from Ron's embrace and turned on her Kimmunicator. "What's the sitch, Wade?"

The computer genius took a swig from his soft drink before answering. "Kim, I did some checking into the tiara, like you wanted. Every source I've talked to confirms that the tiara is real: real gold, real jewels - it's worth millions."

"You didn't expect the Seniors to go after a fake crown, did you?" Ron asked Kim.

"No," answered the teenage girl with a frown, "but something just doesn't feel right. Señor Senior doesn't steal just for money. He likes unique or dangerous items. There's got to be more to this tiara than meets the eye."

"There is," confirmed Wade. "Turns out, that tiara is the long-lost key of ownership to a kingdom called Anvaloppia."

"Hmmm. Never heard of it," said Ron.

"Me neither," said Kim. "And I stay awake in Social Studies class."

"Anvaloppia is small; like, not-big-enough-to-put-on-a-map small," explained Wade. "It's a closely guarded secret that whoever has the tiara is their ruler."

"Somehow, Señor Senior found that out," mused Kim. "But it still doesn't make sense. If this country is so small, why would he want it?"

"Because Anvaloppia is rumored to be the richest country in the world," said Wade.

Ron leaned over Kim's shoulder and looked at Wade with a grin of anticipation. "How rich is it?"

Wade returned the smile in kind and said, "It's so rich, their national anthem is _Show Me the Money_."

As Ron and Wade laughed at their joke, Kim shook her head and said, "Boys. Focus Wade. You'd better contact the Anvaloppian authorities and let them know we have their crown."

"Way ahead of you," said Wade when he managed to stop chuckling. "They've already sent a retrieval team, but it'll still be a while before they get there."

"Which means we're still going to have to go through with the beauty pageant to keep the tiara out of Bonnie's hands," growled Kim.

"You mean Senior's hands, right?" asked Ron.

"Uh, yeah," said a slightly flustered Kim. "That's what I said." Ron chose not to argue the fact.

"Good luck, Kim...I mean, Anya," said Wade as he ended his transmission.

Just then, the announcer called, "_Our next entrant is Miss Bonnie Rockwaller_."

"I guess it's my turn." Bonnie swaggered over to the curtain, looking like she'd already won. "Watch and learn, ladies."

Throwing aside the curtains dramatically, Bonnie walked onto the stage with her shoulders back, her chest thrust out and a demure smile plastered onto her face. Dozens of camera flashes went off and the brunette somehow managed to subtly twist her body so that each picture would capture her best side.

As Bonnie pranced across the stage, the announcer made her introductions. "_Miss Rockwaller is a veteran pageant contestant. She's participated in twenty different competitions across the country. Her natural grace and charm has lead her to numerous victories including five-time winner of the coveted Miss Sweetness championship_."

_Talk about a misnomer_, Kim thought as she watched Bonnie from backstage. Kim had grown up listening to her schoolmate go on and on about those championship wins, but she'd never been sure how much of the story was real. The number of wins changed each time she heard it.

"_Miss Rockwaller's dress is an original design with influences not only from Paris, but Milan and Amsterdam as well_." Bonnie twirled around twice, the fabric of her poofy dress billowing out, allowing a quick glimpse at her slender legs. "_Woven from the finest fabrics, this outfit accentuates Miss Rockwaller's natural beauty_."

"I wonder how much it costs in makeup and skin cream to get that natural beauty?" Ron asked. Kim had to stifle a laugh as Bonnie elegantly blew a kiss at the audience and retreated back behind the curtain.

"That's how the pros do it," she said, looking right into Kim's eyes.

Before Kim could respond, Ron's hand was on her shoulder and his lips were by her ear. "You can take her, KP," he whispered. "No prob."

The way he said it, so full of confidence, Kim couldn't help but believe him.

"Our last contestant today is Miss Anya Leavible."

"Last?" laughed Bonnie. "How appropriate."

"Forget her Kim, uh, Anya," said Ron, pushing his girlfriend towards the curtains. He, better than anyone, knew how easily Bonnie could get under Kim's skin. "It's your time to shine."

"Okay." Kim took a big breath to steady herself. She was about to go out on stage when she paused and turned back to Ron. "Wait, what about the intro? We didn't prepare anything to give to the announcer."

"Not to worry," said Ron. "Your man took care of it."

"What do you mean?"

"I jotted down a few things for the MC. You know, spice things up, make you look good. Not that you need my help."

"Ron..." Kim drawled in warning. "What did you..."

"No time. You're on." With a sudden push from Ron, Kim burst through the curtains and found herself facing down hundred of pairs of eyes all anxiously watching her every move.

Kim froze. Try as she might, she couldn't get a single muscle to move. The fear she'd almost managed to completely squash had surged forth with a vengeance. She tried using reason again, telling herself this was just another mission, but her mind was filled with the disapproving and disgusted glares of the judges and audience, silently asking what business she thought she had being on stage.

_"You can do this, K.P. No prob."_

A new image appeared in her head: Ron, with a loving smile and complete confidence that Kim would do nothing less than blow the competition away. That, along with the realization that she was in disguise, allowed Kim to finally move her legs and make her way across the stage. Her movements were jerky and she still had the facial expression of a deer caught in the headlights. Chancing a glance at the judges table, she saw them staring blankly up at her, not looking impressed. She had to step her game up.

As much as it sickened her, Kim tried to take a page from Bonnie's book and adopt that kind of winning attitude. Kim imagined herself not trying to win the tiara, but merely walking up to accept it. Slowly, her muscles relaxed so her legs now moved fluidly forward instead of like a puppet on strings. Her awkward grimace morphed into a radiant smile. Her hands rested atop her hips, swaying in tandem instead of fidgeting nervously at her sides.

Seeming from a distance, Kim heard the announcer say, "_Miss Leavible is well known in almost every country in the world, except Norway, for her acts of charity and good will. Helping people is what Miss Leavible is all about, whether it's to clean up a local park or volunteering in the Middle East. Her exploits have landed her on the covers of many magazines such as __Humans__, __America Weekly__ and __Sixteen_."

Kim smiled to herself, impressed with the intro Ron had set up for her. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the eyes of the audience, at first dissatisfied with her initial lackluster performance, focus in on her with renewed interest.

"_Miss Leavible's dress is sporting a high-tech look, making it the fashion of the future. The designer was unable to release her name for security reasons_."

The ears of every single woman in the audience perked up at this sentence. Suddenly, Anya Leavible was the name on everyone's lips. To the ladies of society, "secret" was synonymous with "scandal" and nothing drew more attention than a juicy piece of gossip.

Ron certainly knew how to turn a phrase.

As Kim exited the stage, she chanced another look at the judges table. Where before they appeared disinterested, now they talked animatedly amongst themselves about the surprising newcomer.

"What grace. What dignity. A true beauty," raved Francois.

"New or not, she walked that catwalk like she's been doing it for years. You go, girl," shouted Britina.

"A marvelous entrance with a perfectly coordinated ensemble," said Coco Banana, with a nod of approval. "Coco Banana gives props to Miss Leavible." Turning to his white-suited assistant, he said, "Applause." The tall, stoic man immediately started clapping, but continued staring blankly ahead.

"KP, you were great," cried Ron as Kim came back through the curtain. "You've got that audience eating out your hand."

"Thanks, Ron," said Kim, flushed from her successful pageant debut. "But let's not get over confident. There's still a long way to go."

Ron wasn't having any of that. "Come on, KP, you've got this thing in the bag."

And he wasn't the only one who thought so. Off to the side stood Senior, Junior and Bonnie. They'd been watching Anya Leavible's performance very closely and they, like the judges, had been impressed, although not necessarily pleased.

"You have got to be kidding me," scoffed Bonnie. She'd been able to catch snippets of the audiences murmurings and was shocked at what she heard. "They actually like her?! The performance was full of rookie mistakes. Are the judges blind?"

"Do not worry, my sweet," said Junior in a confident voice. "She cannot hold a candle to you."

Bonnie acted as if she hadn't heard Junior. "This little tramp comes out of nowhere and thinks she can steal my crown. And where'd she come from anyway? I mean, have you ever heard of her before?"

"No, but she does seem slightly familiar. I am not so good with the faces," Junior admitted. "Father, has she, perhaps, been to one of our parties?"

"I do not think so," Senior answered distractedly, his focus completely on the young couple in front of him. He studied Anya Leavible and her manager as one might stare at an old family picture, trying to recognize someone that hasn't been seen in years. His son was right; there was something familiar about them, but he could not put his finger on exactly what. Their mannerisms, the way they looked at one another. All of it struck a chord in Senior and faintly reminded him of another pair of teenagers he knew.

The old billionaire shook his head to clear his thoughts. "Miss Leavible is quite a beautiful woman," he finally said, "but I am sure that she will not be victorious over Miss Rockwaller."

"As if," sniffed Bonnie as she turned on her heel and walked off towards the dressing rooms.

"Wait up, my sweet little superstar," Junior called out. "I shall help you prepare for the next round." Before he left, the rich young man turned to Senior and said, "I'm sure Bonnie is happy to have you on her side, Father."

"Oh, I have complete confidence that your girlfriend shall win, my son." As he watched his offspring hurry away, Senior chuckled to himself, "Especially if I give her a little...help. Heh heh heh."

* * *

_Looks like Kim's first pageant experience went pretty well. Let's hope she can keep it up, but that won't be easy with Senior plotting something nasty. As always, reviews and constructive criticism are welcome. Thank you for reading._


	4. Chapter 4 - Can I Ask You Something?

_Hello again all and welcome to Chapter 4 of Fairest of Them All. This chapter is much shorter than the others. In fact, it my be the shortest thing I've ever posted on fanfiction. Originally, this and Chapter 5 were supposed to be combined, but they just didn't seem to fit together so I broke this part out. Chapter 4 is more or less filler. It doesn't move the plot forward; it's just an opportunity to inject some humor and a little mushiness. Nothing wrong with that. The next chapter will have more action, I promise, and most likely will be much longer. So anyway, enjoy._

* * *

**Chapter 4 - Can I Ask You Something?**

After her first round success, Kim was able to relax and the pageant didn't seem quite as scary to her. At least, as long as she was performing as Anya Leavible and not herself. Having a fake identity helped Kim to renew her confidence and allowed her to more easily play the part of the beauty queen she was pretending to be. She briefly wondered if this was what being a masked super hero felt like.

Next up was the question and answer section of the pageant. All the contestants were lined up on the stage and, one by one, they would have to give an answer to the question presented to them by the master of ceremonies.

Kim found herself standing on stage once again, her puffy ballroom gown now a much thinner blue and white evening formal dress that reached halfway down her calves. She stood on the far right side of the stage at the very end of the line, meaning that she'd be the last to be asked a question. She'd purposefully placed herself there since it was the position closest to the tiara. No one was getting near it on her watch. Kim was on full alert, expected the Seniors to make a grab for it at any moment.

What the young woman had not expected was having to fight with the other contestants for her position. Apparently, the last spot in the Q & A section of the pageant was a greatly desired place. It allowed a contestant the greatest amount of time to gather her thoughts and to formulate an answer while also letting her hear all the responses of her opponents first. Several of the contenders, including Bonnie, had made a beeline for the right side of the stage, but Ron wasn't the only one with skill at dodging henchmen. Slipping through like a ghost, Kim had reached the spot first and allowed herself a small grin at her minor victory.

Deprived of her desired place, Bonnie's spotlight-grabbing nature drove her to instead seek the first spot in the line, which she acquired with a healthy dose of barely subtle shoving and growling. But, she was all smiles when the M.C. asked her: "If you could change one thing about the world, what would it be?"

Bonnie confidently replied with an answer that would make any politician proud. "I believe that the power to change the world resides in all of us. All we need is faith and love and the desire to work hard. With that, anyone can make their dreams come true."

Faith? Love? Since when was Bonnie an expert on either of those things. And hard work? Kim was sure that was the first time those words had come out of her rival's mouth. The crowd was eating it up, though. They clapped and cheered at the idealistic beauty in Bonnie's words.

As the M.C. moved down the line, Kim tried to pay attention to what the other contestants were saying, but each of their answers sounded much the same - flowery pathos that only loosely had anything to do with the question - so Kim mostly tuned it out. Instead, the teen hero focused on the crowd. Her highly trained eyes flitted over every single person watching the stage, attempting to divulge if any of them were possible accomplices for the Seniors. All the audience members were giving the would-be beauty champs their undivided attention. There was the occasional brief glance at the tiara, but no one made a move towards it.

Most of the other contestants had answered their questions and as Kim's turn drew nearer, her mind wandered back to the conversation she had had backstage with her own partner in crime.

_"Okay, KP, you are currently leading the pack, but you gotta keep that momentum going. You are gonna rock this next round." Ron's eyes burned with intense fire and he was so excited you'd think he was the one competing. "Have you been doing those mouth exercises I gave you?"_

_"Yes, Ron," said Kim, wincing as she gently rubbed her cheeks. "For the past half hour. I feel like my jaw is about to fall off."_

_"Work through the pain, Kim," said Ron with little sympathy, sounding frighteningly like Mr. Barkin during practice. "Now, Rufus and I have been working on the best possible way to answer whatever question they throw at you."_

_"Ron, I think I can handle it," assured Kim, allowing a slightly smug grin to appear on her tired lips. "After all, let's not forget who the better student is."_

_Her boyfriend took no offence at the jibe, but merely shook his head with an indulgent smile. "Kim, Kim, Kim. This isn't like in school where you can just pluck the answer out of a book," he said as Rufus chittered in agreement from his jacket pocket. "They're not going to ask you what the capitol of Africa is."_

_"Ron, Africa is a continent."_

_"Hey, if they wear adult diapers, that's their business. I don't judge." As Kim was scratching her head over Ron's response, the teen boy snapped his fingers and Rufus handed him a small notebook. Flipping through the pages, Ron continued, "Now, according to our research, the top ten things beauty contestants mention in their answers is, in no particular order: puppies, children, world peace, God, education, protecting the environment, family, marriage, inner strength and unicorns."_

_"Unicorns?" asked an amazed Kim. "They really mention unicorns? That seems so preschool."_

_"Well, actually," said a red-faced Ron, "I could only find nine things so I threw that one in there to kind of round it out."_

_"Ron, don't ever go to work for the Library of Congress," Kim deadpanned._

_"Come on, KP, nine-tenths of this is actual fact and I may be getting a gentleman's C in algebra, but that sounds like pretty good math to me."_

_"Okay, okay," said Kim, holding up her hands to placate her BF. "Which of those things do you suggest I mention?"_

_"All of them. Natch."_

_"All of them?" said Kim incredulously. "How am I going to do that?"_

_"Well...uh, okay, say the guy asks you..." Ron paused and flipped through several more pages of his notepad, "...What are your main goals in life?"_

_"Okay," said Kim, on track with Ron's reasoning so far._

_"All you have to do is say: 'Through marriage, I would find the inner strength to promote family values by delivering puppies to all educated children with a solar powered helicopter to protect the environment while working towards world peace. Oh, and I like God and unicorns.'"_

_Kim just stared at her partner for a moment before saying, "Ron, your train of thought has officially been derailed."_

"Miss Leavible?"

Kim started at the intrusion to her thoughts. Her eyes went wide and darted around before locking on the Master of Ceremonies standing right in front of her, obviously waiting for her to say something. Past him, she could see the audience was now focused on her. Kim glanced down the line of contestant and saw them all giving her looks ranging from impatience to pity to - in Bonnie's case - outright contempt.

"Miss Leavible, are you alright?"

"Yes," said Kim, quickly adopting her fake accent. "I am sorry." _Stupid, stupid, stupid_, she mentally berated herself. She'd completely spaced out. What an amateur move.

"In that case..." The M.C. cleared his throat and read off the small index card in his hand. "Miss Leavible, you have done quite a bit of charity work throughout the world and have no doubt helped a great many people. Tell us, if you could pick only one charity to work towards, what would it be?"

Kim immediately opened her mouth to answer...and said nothing. Slowly, closing her mouth, Kim realized that what at first seemed like a straightforward question wasn't nearly as easy as she thought. The teen hero thought about all the charity and goodwill programs she helped. The Salvation Army, Sunshine Spreaders, food pantries, school fundraisers, educational programs, tutoring, homeless shelters, park cleanups, pet adoptions - the list was endless. And that wasn't even counting the whole save-the-world thing. Plus, for every program she participated in, Kim could think of a dozen more that she didn't.

The unexpectedly overwhelmed young woman stared out at the faces before her, waiting for her reply. "I...I don't think I can answer that question," she stammered.

"Oh?" said a slightly surprised M.C. "And why not?"

"Because I can't choose just one group of people to help," Kim said truthfully. "There's a lot of problems in the world and a lot of needy people...but not as many who are willing to help." Kim hung her head in shame, as if she herself hadn't been doing enough. Then she brought her head up and spoke with confidence. "If I had to choose just one thing to do, I'd work towards getting more people involved with charity. That way, if people would just help each other willingly, there wouldn't be a need for charity programs at all."

The crowd, the contestants and the M.C. were all quiet for a maddening stretch of time in which Kim had convinced herself that her answer - however much spoken from the heart - was not what the gawking onlookers had been hoping to hear. Then, all of a sudden, everyone in the audience - even the M.C. - burst into applause, cheering and even breaking into tears at the beauty of Kim's honesty.

The teen hero let loose a deep breath of relief. Once again, she looked to her fellow contestants and now saw the respect and approval in their eyes. Well, all except Bonnie, of course. The tanned teen scowled in hatred at Anya Leavible, silently vowing that, whatever it took, the next round would go to her.

* * *

_And there it is. Those top ten things pageant contestants say that Ron was talking about?...I have no idea if that's true. As far as I know, I made it up. Although, I will admit to doing some reasearch on pageants to figure out what questions they ask. Next chapter is the talent contest and as you may know, Kim always runs into trouble with those. As always, reviews and contrustive criticism are welcome. Thank you and Merry Christmas!_


	5. Chapter 5 - Possible's Got Talent

_Hello again, all. This latest update is somewhat later than I had planned and I do apologize for that. As I promised, this chapter is much longer and has more action. It's time for the talent portion of the pageant. Kim always seems to run into trouble at talent contests and this time is no exception. Enjoy._

* * *

**Chapter 5 - Possible's Got Talent**

"HHOOOOOOAAAAAAARRR!"

Only two known creatures in existence could possibly make such an earsplitting, terrifying noise. One is an enraged grizzly bear desperately seeking to murder the poor fool who dared to take her cub away from her. The other is Bonnie Rockwaller on a jealous rampage. Unfortunately for Señor Senior Junior, he is facing down the latter of the two.

The young Spanish man was cowering in a corner, desperate to put as much distance between himself and the ire-filled individual as he can. Despite his muscular physic, he could not hope to withstand the storm of rage currently running rampant within the confines of the dressing room. Bonnie ignored him for the most part, sparing him a glance every now and then mainly to make sure he hadn't dared abandon her in this, her hour of need.

Despite the dressing room's compact size, Bonnie had managed to fit an exorbitant number of outfits into it, each one brand new, never been worn. The young woman stomped from one end of the wardrobe to the other, her heels drumming against the floor so loudly anyone outside would think an elephant was in there. Muttering savagely to herself, the pageant prodigy yanked out dress after dress with such force that the hangers went spinning through the air like lethal blades.

"How about this?" growled Bonnie, holding up a mauve dress with spaghetti straps and a white ribbon around the waist.

Junior assumed she was asking him and so replied, "Oh, it is very..."

Bonnie cut him off with, "No, it's so last season," and threw the expensive dress over her shoulder onto an ever-growing pile of on the floor. "What about this?" This time she held up a red strapless rosette dress.

Again, Junior tried to comment. "Well, I'm sure it will look..."

"No, no, it's not enough," cried Bonnie. She gripped the intricately woven garment with both hands and ripped it in half with a single tug. Her eyes were full of fire and steel as Bonnie stared intently at the offending material. "I need something beyond fabulous to take down that prancing, prissy, aren't-I-so-great Leavible!"

By now, Bonnie's voice had risen to a full blown shout and she was looking around for something else to take her frustration out on. Junior decided he'd better calm her down before she went completely nuts. "Please, my delicate flower," he begged. He reached out to touch her arm, but she turned her glare on him and Junior jumped back as if shocked. "You must relax. This Anya Leavible is an amateur; she cannot beat you. And besides, if you go out there tense like this, you will make the mistakes."

Junior retreated back to his corner, fully expecting a tirade from his girlfriend for even suggesting that her performance would be anything less than flawless. To his surprise however, his words seemed to cool the hot-headed teenager down. Slowly, ever so slowly, her muscles relaxed, her jaw unclenched and with a deep breath out, Bonnie regained her composure.

"You're right," she said to Junior. Bonnie tossed away the shredded remains of the dress in her hands and turned back towards the wardrobe, looking though it in a calm manner. "I have to keep my head in the game. Flying off the handle is just what Leavible wants. She knows I'm her only real competition and has been plotting to knock me out from the very beginning."

"Absolutely," Junior eagerly agreed and rushed to stand by his girlfriend's side. "Now we just need to find the perfect winning outfit."

* * *

Little did Bonnie know that her rival could care less about her right now.

At that very moment, Kim was sitting at the vanity table within her own much smaller dressing room. The teen hero was taking advantage of the intermission between contest rounds to grab a quick rest. To make herself a little more comfortable, Kim had changed the transforming pageant suit into a loose-fitting white and blue striped sweatshirt and pair of jogging pants. She wiggled her bare toes, trying to expel the feeling of needles in her feet caused by having to wear those cramped high heels all day.

The teen hero was out of her Anya Leavible disguise; the morphing necklace rested on the table by her elbow. She absentmindedly brushed a strand of red hair behind her ear as she gazed in the mirror. It was good to see her normal self again, even if the image was inferior to Anya's in her eyes. Past the reflection, Kim saw an old trunk sitting open on the floor. Every few seconds, some random object would come flying out of the trunk, accompanied by a dismissive grunt.

Kim looked about in distain at the clutter now hogging the floor. There was a pair of tap shoes, a hula hoop, a set of bagpipes, several bowling pins, a ventriloquist's dummy and a helmet that advertized Harry the Human Cannonball.

"Ron, you're making a mess", admonished Kim.

The man himself popped out of the trunk wearing a beret and holding a painter's palette which he quickly dropped to the floor to join the rest. "Huh? Oh, sorry KP," was his distracted answer before disappearing from sight again.

Kim got up and peeked into the trunk, ready to back away if something else should be launched out of it. "What are you doing anyway?"

"Coming up with the perfect routine for the talent round," echoed Ron's voice from the trunk's deep abyss. A second later, he appeared with a rusted unicycle in his hands. "How about this? It's unusual. I bet nobody else would think of it."

"For good reason," said Kim. "I am not riding a unicycle. Besides, I've never done it before."

"Oh, how hard could it be," said Ron, twirling the one-wheeled vehicle in his hands. "I betcha I could learn to do it."

"I'm sure you could, Ron, but what good would that do now?" asked Kim as she went back towards her chair. "I'm the one that's going to be on the stage."

"I'll believe that when I see it," muttered Ron.

"What do you mean?" asked Kim with a questioning look as Ron climbed out of the trunk.

"Kim...how do I say this delicately?" Ron looked up at the ceiling as he chose his words carefully. "You don't have the best track record with talent shows."

"You mean, with winning them?" asked Kim.

"With showing up for them at all," said Ron bluntly.

"Oh, yeah. No show," agreed Rufus from Ron's jacket pocket.

"You've flaked out of every other talent show you've been in," Ron explained.

"That is not true!" cried an indignant Kim.

"Oh no?" asked Ron with a raised eyebrow. "How about when you were supposed be on American Starmaker and I had to go on instead?"

"That was a mission just like right now," Kim pointed out. "The objective was to stop Drakken, not to win the show. Besides, the Naked Mole Rap turned into an overnight internet sensation and I've never heard you complain about that."

Acknowledging Kim's arguments with only a slight nod, Ron continued, "And don't forget the talent competition last year."

"Now you can't blame that on me," said a defensive Kim. "Before the show, Drakken trapped me in a bottomless chasm filled with water, sharks and a giant squid. I think I deserve a pass on that one."

"Well, yeah, I guess you're...Wait, if the chasm was bottomless, how did he fill it with water?"

"That's not the point, Ron," said Kim, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration.

"No, the point, Kim, is that if you don't show up on stage it could blow our cover," said Ron angrily. Then, in a much gentler voice, he said, "I'm just trying to help you."

"I know," said Kim tenderly, placing her hand on Ron's shoulder and giving it an affectionate squeeze. "Don't worry. I will not flake out this time."

"You sure?" said a still unconvinced Ron.

"Absolutely," Kim said confidently. "Third time's the charm after all."

Just then, both teens cocked their heads as an announcement was made over the P.A. system.

**_"Would all contestants please report to the stage."_**

"Show time," said Kim. She pressed a button on her belt and the jogging suit morphed into a dress similar to the one Kim wore during the last round, but with a shorter hemline and a deeper neckline.

"Looking good," said Ron with a wolf whistle thrown in for good measure.

Kim smiled her thanks as she clasped the nanotech necklace around her neck and once again assumed that appearance of Anya Leavible. The incognito hero had one foot out the dressing room door when she turned around and said, "We never did decide on a routine."

Ron shrugged and simply said, "Just fall back to the old standby: singing. You have a beautiful voice, KP."

"And you have a silver tongue, Mr. Stoppable," said Kim and gave her boyfriend a quick peck on the lips before heading to the stage.

* * *

_**"Ladies and gentlemen, it is time for the next round! These girls are beautiful, but they not just a bunch of pretty faces. Prepared to be dazzled and amazed as they showcase their amazing skills for you today!"** _

The excitement in the audience created by these words was equal to the cloud of tension backstage. The talent round - while considered by some to be a mere sideshow during beauty pageants - was actually one of the most important sections of the contest. Many ill-prepared hopefuls had been regulated to pageant obscurity because they hadn't been able to get their act together.

All the Miss Fabulous contestants were spread out behind the curtain, giving each other a wide birth so they had plenty of room to squeeze in a little last-minute practicing. Some girls were warming up their vocals or practicing their dance steps. Some were checking the props they would use in their act to make completely sure they were in working order. The judges would be watching carefully for any hitch or flub. And still others were simply loitering around, attempting to steady their nerves and psych themselves up.

Anya Leavible and her manager mingled among them, moving slowly between the small groups; casting a critical eye on every act and contestant they passed. Experience had taught the teenage hero that where they was one villain after something as valuable as the tiara there may be more and so she passed over each prop and participant with the experienced eye of a seasoned investigator.

That's not how it looked to the other young woman though. To them, Anya's confident air and judgmental gaze made her seem like a top contender sizing up her competition or worse, a coach inspecting her players before a big game and cataloguing their potential flaws. While such a mental image bred jealousy and a who-does-she-think-she-is attitude in a few of the women - as evidence by spiteful glares and haughty sniffs - most of the others looked up to Anya for this and rushed over to ask her advice and critique of their acts.

The poor disguised teenager was flabbergasted by the sudden attention and had to work to control the surprise from showing on her face. She spared a glance to Ron, who didn't look the least bit surprised. He remembered the time he had switched bodies with Kim and how everybody and their brother had hounded him for his - or rather Kim' - help and guidance on something or other. As Ron had predicted, Kim was taking the pageant world by storm. In fact, Kim's two impressive victories in the previous rounds had given her the status of some kind of pageant guru in the eyes of the lower ranked contestants. It was rumored that Anya Leavible was the favorite to win; an idea that Kim still had trouble wrapping her mind around.

Ron was about to take a step back and let his best friend have the spotlight as he usually did, but the pageant hopefuls surrounding the duo wouldn't let him. Soon they were pressing Ron with questions just as much as they were Kim. After all, he was the manager of the next Miss Fabulous. For a guy who spent his life unnoticed in the background, this sudden onrush of attention was shocking to say the least and it was all the poor boy could do to produce more than a few mumbled stutters in response to the young lady's queries.

He was desperately trying to think how to get away from the mass of girls - even though before he started dating Kim he'd have killed to be in his current situation - when he noticed the Seniors standing over by the back wall of the stage.

The two seemed to be having a rather heated conversation. The older man was saying something to his son, but Ron couldn't make it out. Junior appeared to be typically uninterested in whatever his father was saying and kept glancing back towards the dressing rooms. Finally, Senior struck the floor with his cane and pointed one finger sharply downward, kind of like you'd do to a misbehaving child if you wanted them to stay put. The younger man simply shrugged and slumped against the wall. Senior gave a tired sigh and started moving offstage.

Ron nudged Kim and pointed with his chin to the villainous duo. She didn't look their way, but Ron saw her eyes flicker to the back wall. An almost imperceptible nod; she had seen them. With many polite, but hurried apologies, Kim grabbed Ron's hand and pushed the two of them through the throng of contestants.

"I'm going to see what Senior's up to," said Kim. "You stay here and keep an eye on Junior."

"Gotcha KP," replied Ron with a quick salute as Kim hurried off in the direction Senior had gone. "Come on, Rufus. Let's go have a little talk with our friend Junior."

The naked mole rat shook his head and squeaked at Ron in a concerned way.

"Of course it's a good idea," said Ron enthusiastically. "We can pump him for information. See if we can find out anything about Bonnie's act in the talent round."

Rufus squeaked again, this time in a lecturing kind of tone.

"Oh, and the tiara, sure. We'll see if that comes up in conversation." Moving in an exaggeratedly spy-like manner, Ron slithered across the backstage, hiding behind props and wardrobes until he reached the spot where Junior was and casually leaned his back against the wall.

"Hey," the young man said in a friendly way.

Junior looked over his sunglasses at the person next to him, suppressing a shudder at the horrific suit he was wearing. "Hey," he answered back in a bored tone.

"You're Bonnie Rockwaller's manager, right?"

Ron's inquiry was met with stony silence.

"I'm Anya Leavible's manager. Nice to meet you." Ron held out his hand, but Junior didn't even look his way. But Ron was not discouraged. He knew the best way to get Junior to talk was a heaping helping of flattery. "I gotta say, you're doing a bang up job there, pal. Bonnie's really showing them who's boss."

Junior stared down at Ron for a moment before a small smile graced his lips. "Yes, my sweet little sapphire is quite the fierce competitor."

"Don't I know it," said Ron. "If this keeps up, she'll be taking second place no problem."

"Yes, I too think..." Junior froze for a second, mentally replying what Ron had just said. "I'm sorry, I must have heard you wrong. Did you say second place?"

"Sure did," confirmed Ron. "Don't get me wrong; Ol' Bon-Bon is good, but Anya will be the winner hands down."

"I am finding that hard to be believing," said Junior, a hint of a threat in his voice. "Your Anya is a newcomer while my Bonnie has won many past championships."

"Key word: past," said Ron. "It's been years since she's competed and let's not forget who the crowd loved during the opening round and the Q & A?"

"There is still the talent contest," stated Junior through gritted teeth.

"Ah, yes, the talent section," said Ron as if he'd just remembered. "I doubt Bonnie will be able to top what we have planned."

"That is what you are thinking," said Junior, having fully turned so that he was face to face with Ron. "Anya could not possibly top a professional ballet performance with full orchestral accompaniment."

"Really?" said Ron, unable to mask the intimidated warble in his voice. "That sounds...nice."

Junior leaned in close and asked, "What does your client have planned?"

"Oh, something very impressive," said Ron. Thinking quickly, he blurted out, "She's going to swing on a trapeze...one hundred feet in the air...without a net."

The millionaire's son drew back in surprise. That act did sound good. "Well, Bonnie will also be riding a horse bareback. While spinning two...no, ten plates on sticks."

From inside Ron's jacket, Rufus tugged on the fabric, desperate to get his owner's attention, but the teenager ignored him, bound and determine to win this game of one-upmanship. "Yeah, well Anya can wrestle a wild steer with one hand tied behind her back."

"Bonnie can ski down an Olympic obstacle course in 10 seconds flat."

"Anya can fly a space shuttle into Earth's orbit."

"Bonnie can jump from a high dive into a bucket of water."

"Anya can name that tune in one note!"

It was then that Ron saw said disguised girl on the far side of the stage, frantically signally to Ron from behind Junior. Before the boy could figure out what his best friend was trying to say, Señor Senior appeared from around the corner, heading towards his son. Junior's bulk was hiding Ron from the older man's view.

"Junior?"

At the sound of his name, Junior turned to see his father approaching him. When he turned back, he saw that Anya Leavible's manager had vanished.

"Come, Junior," said Senior. "I have finished getting everything ready for the next phase of my dastardly plan."

"Not now, Father," cried Junior. His argument with Ron seemed to have unsettled him. "I have to find a horse so that Bonnie can dive from a space shuttle while balancing on a bucket of water!"

Senior stared blankly at his son before shaking his head sadly. "Junior, that fancy hair gel you use has finally seeped into your brain." Taking him by the ear, Senior dragged Junior away while Ron met up with Kim who immediately told her boyfriend about her spying venture.

"I followed Senior for a while, but then he lost me in the corridors," Kim hated to admit. "It's a maze back there. I wasn't able find out anything."

"Yeah, that's great, KP," said Ron, obviously not listening. "Listen, Kim, about your talent act; I think we need to step up our game. Have you ever been on a trapeze?"

* * *

**_"Our first performer will be Isabella Smith, recently crowned Miss Orange County California. She and her partner will be performing the Scandinavian Waltz."_**

A tall young woman wearing a floor length ballroom gown of pale pink glided towards the curtain followed by a slightly shorter man wearing a tuxedo with a vest to match the dress. Several of the other contestants whispered tidings of good luck.

Señor Senior and Junior watched nearby as the duo approach the stage. "And now," said Senior, "it is time to put my villainous plan into action." The older man reached into his jacket and pulled out a large black pistol with a slightly larger than average barrel.

Junior's eyes went wide and he squeaked in shock at the deadly object in the other man's hand. "Father, do you not think that is a bit extreme?"

"Calm down, my son," said Senior sternly, replacing the gun back into his jacket. "It is not that type of weapon."

On stage, Isabella and her partner had their arms wrapped around each other's waists, waiting for their cue. A slow concerto, played expertly on the piano, filled the air and the two dancers began to twirl gracefully across the stage.

Making sure that all eyes were on the performance and not him, Señor Senior casually went over to the edge of the curtain where several other pageant contestants had gathered to watch. No one paid him any mind; they figured he was just studying the opposition for his client, like any good manager would do. Playing the part of a weak old man, Senior made his way to the front of the crowd, many of the contestants kindly moving aside for him. Once he had a clear shot, Senior pulled out the gun and took aim not at Isabella or her partner, but at the ground.

When Senior pulled the trigger, a think green glop shot out of the barrel and hit the hem of Isabella's gown. As the couple kept rotating across the stage, the green glop held fast, cementing the dress to the floor. There was a loud ripping sound and the audience on both sides of the curtain gasped as Isabella spun right out of her clothes.

At first, the poor young dancer didn't even realize it. Her partner sure did; suddenly his hands were touching flesh instead of fabric. Isabella frowned at the young man's mortified look. That frown deepened when she heard the horrified mutterings and whooping laugher coming from the on lookers. That's when she looked down and saw she was wearing nothing but her underwear and her heels. Tears streamed down the humiliated young woman's face as she raced off the stage.

"Looks like we've got ourselves a wardrobe malfunction here," noted Britina from the judge's table.

"I thought those only happened at American football games," wondered Francois.

"Oh my," said Señor Senior, smoothly slipping the gun back out of sight. He looked around at the open-mouthed faces of the other contestants around him. "Isn't it just a shame when something like that happens?"

And so it went all afternoon.

The next contestant was a teenage girl named Reba dressed in a marching band costume who played a selection of parade music on her tuba. She was quite good and although tuba music isn't exactly the most popular, the audience and the judges were really getting into the rhythm. As she was playing, a pink bubble came out of the bell of the tube. It started out small, but got bigger with each breath until...

POP!

Reba, the tuba and the stage were covered in sticky pink goo. Two stage hands took her backstage so they could scrape her hands off the tuba and the stool off her butt.

Senior watched the spectacle as he chewed on a stick of Spearmint.

"Gum, Junior?"

While the stage was being cleaned, Whitney, a talented singer, made ready to go on next. She was practicing her scales and so didn't see Senior slip some kind of powder into her glass of water. After a quick drink, she was ready to go on. Her piano accompaniment began and Whitney opened her mouth, but no sound came out except for a gasping, wheezing noise. Not wanting to disappoint the judges, she revered to her backup talent - mime.

Fortunately, she was able to dodge the tomatoes and rotten fruit being thrown at her as she dashed offstage.

Next up was Esmeralda, a young girl from Latin America, who planned to wow and astound the audience with amazing feats of magic. Her first incredible trick: the classic pulling a rabbit out of a hat. Set up on the stage was a small table with a cloth covered with archaic and mystical-looking symbols. On that table sat an ordinary black top hat. Esmeralda waved her wand above the hat, said abracadabra a couple of times and thrust her hand into the hat.

Her initial bright smile quickly turned into a look of blank disbelief as Esmeralda realized that there was nothing in the hat. That was weird. Hadn't she made sure the rabbit was safely tucked away in there just a few minutes ago? The young magician shoved her arm into the hat all the way up to her shoulder, trying to feel around.

That was the perfect time for Señor Senior to active the industrial vacuum that he'd hooked up underneath the hat. With a whoosh of wind, poor Esmeralda was sucked into the hat. But on the plus side, the rabbit was found safe and sound under the table.

Senior and Junior watched as two stagehands wheeled Esmeralda off the stage. Her nylon calves and high-heeled feet - the only parts of her that were visible - were waving frantically in the air.

"Father, this cheating plan of yours is working perfectly," squealed Junior.

"Yes, only two more acts to sabotage and Bonnie is guaranteed to win us the tiara," said Senior with cool confidence.

The two Spanish villains might have jinxed it for themselves because interfering with the next act proved to be a much tougher affair. Janette, a tall girl wearing a color guard uniform with a gold top and red pants, was performing a very impressive baton twirling routine. She'd march up and down the stage in time with the matching band music playing from the speakers, spinning a metal baton with each hand. Occasionally, she'd throw one of the batons in the air and catch it without even looking.

That was the point when the Seniors were trying to make their move. The father and son villain team had climbed up to the catwalk suspended high overhead. It jutted out over the stage, but was hidden by a curtain so the audience couldn't see it. When Janette threw a baton in the air, Senior would catch it and Junior would drop another one down. The intent was for the baton to drop to the floor making it appear that Janette had missed her catch. Problem was, Janette never missed. She seemed to possess some kind of sixth sense; she always knew the right spot to be in to grab the baton.

"Father, this plan is not so perfect anymore," complained Junior as he threw two batons down this time which the young pageant contestant caught effortlessly. Behind her back, no less.

"Patience, Junior," said Senior, although the older man hardly sounded patient himself. A vein popped out on his forehead as he witnessed the woman below and the appeal she was drawing from the thrilled crowd. "We must find another way to..."

"What are you two doing up here?"

The two men turned towards the voice, prepared to confront the security detail that had found them. But instead, they found Bonnie Rockwaller glaring at them just like she did with worthless freshman who dared to walk too close to her.

"Bonnie! My sweet," cried Junior, hastily trying to hide the batons he was holding behind his back. "You are up next. You should be getting ready."

"Don't worry; I'm more than ready," said the tan-skinned young woman. "Now, what is going on up here?"

"Uh...well...you see..." Junior turned to his father for guidance, but the older man simply gave him a blank look, not willing to risk telling Bonnie anything and thus jeopardizing their chance to get the tiara. He knew Miss Rockwaller was not a perfect angel; she had bullied and blackmailed her way up to the High School elite. He also knew that she was a proud young woman and the knowledge that they were helping her win might not sit well with her.

When the two Spanish men were not forthcoming, Bonnie glanced down to the stage and saw Janette wrapping up her act. She then noticed the bucket of batons sitting on the catwalk. "Are you two trying to mess up Janette's act?" accused Bonnie.

Junior's shoulders slumped and his voice was heavy with guilt. "Yes, I am afraid so."

"Well, you're screwing it up," snapped Bonnie. To the astonishment of both Senior and Junior, the young woman grabbed the bucket of batons and dumped the whole thing over the catwalk railing, burying Janette in a mass of metal bars just as she was bowing to the crowd.

"That's how it's done," declared Bonnie. Smacking her hands together in a satisfied way, she turned up her nose and climbed back down the catwalk leaving Senior and Junior behind.

"You know, Junior," Senior said slowly, "I think I am finally starting to like your girlfriend."

"I know, Father," said Junior dreamily. "Is she not just the most...wait, what do you mean, 'finally'?"

* * *

"Wow, KP, there sure is a lot of bad luck going around." Kim and Ron, in their disguises, watched in sympathy as Janette was escorted off the stage. The injured girl was clutching her left shoulder and leaning heavily on her right leg.

"You're half right, Ron," Kim said. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed the Seniors making their way down the catwalk ladder, both with giddy grins on their faces. "It is bad, but it has nothing to do with luck."

**_"Up next is Miss Bonnie Rockwaller performing a selection of French ballet pieces."_**

The would-be champion came sweeping across the stage. The outfit she'd finally decided on was a midnight blue costume and leggings trimmed with white lace. Following closely behind her was an entire professional orchestra with crisp tuxedos and instruments polished to an almost blinding shine. Everyone else watched the procession with looks of awe, even Ron, but Kim wore a sly smile.

This was the perfect opportunity for a little snooping. The Seniors were undoubtedly responsible for the acts of the other contestants going haywire. With Bonnie on stage, Senior and Junior would be watching her carefully, making sure nothing went wrong with her routine. That meant Bonnie's dressing room would be empty. If Kim could just get a few pieces of evidence, the Seniors would be charged with pageant tampering and be arrested.

"Ron, you wait here," Kim instructed. "I'm going to do a little digging."

The male teen managed to tear himself away from Bonnie's parade long enough to glance worriedly at his partner. "Kim, remember? No flaking out?"

"I'll be back in time for the act. I promise," Kim soothingly reassured her boyfriend. She walked off towards the dressing rooms, taking care not to sprint and to appear casual so she wouldn't attract attention. It mostly worked. No one else even looked her way except for one pair of beady grey eyes that covertly followed her movements.

"Bonnie is wowing them, Father," said Junior as he watched his beloved. It was true. Say what you will against her, but the girl does know how to put on a show. A veil of fog floated atop the stage, partially obscuring Bonnie, making her seem like a fairy creature dancing within some ancient enchanted forest. With the help of a cable line, she flew out above the heads of an awestruck audience, scattering rose petals like colorful snowflakes.

"Anya Leavible is up after Bonnie," stated Juinor. Despite his adoration of his girlfriend's skills, a hint of unease crept into the young man's voice. "What item from our bag of tricks are we going to use to stop her?"

Senior considered the questions for several moments before answering. "I do not think an effort similar to our previous acts of sabotage will be successful."

Junior was looking even more worried now. "But, Father, we cannot let her perform. What if she wins?" A shocked look crossed Junior's face as he realized what he just blurted out. "I...I am not saying she could beat my Bonnie of course, but Anya Leavible is good and we should continue with the cheating, us being villains and all."

"I did not say we would not cheat, Junior," the older man admonished. "I simply meant that we would need something a little different to deal with our dear Miss Leavible." Senior pulled a cell phone from his jacket pocket and pushed a number on his speed dial. "Hello? Henchco? I need to place an order for immediate delivery."

* * *

When she was sure no one was around to see her, Kim picked up her pace and hurried over to the dressing room Bonnie had come out of. Testing the knob, she found it locked. That alone was suspicious. Dressing rooms weren't supposed to have locks. Hers certainly didn't have one. Maybe Senior had done a little remodeling to keep his secrets safe?

Kim reached underneath the sash of her dress and pulled out two thin metal lock picks. All too often, Kim had found herself unable to use her high tech gadgets on missions either because the bad guys would take them or short them out or something. So, Kim had taught herself some basic low tech skills perfect for undercover work. Plus, it came in handy when her brothers tried to lock her in the bathroom.

It took just a few seconds of poking and prodding, but finally the tumblers in the lock clicked and Kim was able to enter the room. Her first impression was of a tornado aftermath. Bonnie had not bothered to clean up the mess she'd made during her search for the perfect outfit. Plus, it looked like the furniture had helped Kim's rival to work through some of her frustration. At least that meant Kim wouldn't have to be as careful not to disturb the place. Who would notice?

Knowing she didn't have much time, Kim quickly scoured every inch of the room, looking under every piece clothing and opening every drawer, but she wasn't able to find anything incriminating. Then she noticed a small unassuming briefcase stuffed away in a corner. Kim picked her way around the mess and took a closer look. Stitched on the bag were the letters 'SSS'.

Bingo.

Kim started rummaging in the bag and found it to be stuffed full of paperwork. Most of it was qualification forms for the pageant or dossiers on the various contestants - public information that anyone could obtain. This was starting to look like a dead end too, but then Kim noticed another folded piece of paper sticking out of a small hard-to-see side pocket. She pulled it out and opened it up to find a blueprint of Marcus Dubois' office in Los Angeles. Notes in the margins of the plans stated things like "possible escape route" and "known guard positions". It was Señor Senior's burglary plan.

Trying to move as few objects as possible, Kim cleared a spot on the dressing table and placed the blueprint on it, smoothing out the creases as best she could. Then she used her Kimmunicator to take a few photos of the plan. She couldn't just take it or else Senior would become suspicious if he found it gone. Once she was sure she'd collected enough evidence, Kim folded the plan, put it back in the briefcase and replaced the bottles and lotions on the dressing table so it looked like they hadn't been moved.

Satisfied with her work, the teen hero started to creep back out of the room, but she only got halfway to the door before she stopped. A tingly feeling was crawling up her spine. Her heart rate sped up as her body was inundated with adrenaline, making it difficult for her to stand still. Someone else was nearby; she could feel it.

Slowly, Kim scanned each room corner, but the place was empty save for her. Nonetheless, every instinct in her mind was screaming at her that she was not alone. This sixth sense was born from years of missions where henchmen popping out at you, floors dropping out from under you and lasers blasting from fortress walls was a normal occurrence. These instincts had saved both hers and Ron's life multiple times and she wasn't about to ignore them now, even if she couldn't see the danger.

Then she heard it: the squeal of metal on metal. It was so subtle she almost missed it. Had she been moving, no doubt the soft crunch of her shoes against the carpet would have covered it up. The sound did not come again, but Kim's natural radar was locked onto the source. Behind her and to the right; that's where it had come from.

Smoothly, she looked over her shoulder and saw nothing, but then directed her gaze to the ceiling.

_The vents._

No sooner had this realization crossed her mind when said ventilation grate exploded outward in a puff of smoke and a ninja - face covered and dressed entirely in black - landed gracefully on the ground. Kim was just taking up a battle position against this opponent when another vent exploded across the room and a second ninja appeared.

No one moved as the three warriors sized each other up. The only visible part of the ninjas were their eyes: black as coal, but somehow full of amusement, as if they thought taking care of this one little girl would be easy. A wicked smile graced Kim's lips. Oh, how she would love proving them wrong.

The first ninja's eyes flickered to his partner; a slight movement, but Kim picked up on it and focused her attention on him. Immediately, the second ninja leapt forward, arm drawn back to deliver a karate chop to Kim's neck. Effortlessly, the teen hero's arm rose up to block the strike and the ninja's black eyes widened in surprise.

Then, the first ninja made his move, thrusting his arm at Kim's stomach, but she was too fast and grabbed the enemy warrior by the wrist, halting him in his tracks. With a single flex of her muscles, the deceptively strong young girl pushed both ninjas back to their corners.

The villainous henchmen assumed another battle stance, but slowly, carefully. Their eyes narrowed in caution. Kim could tell that they would not underestimate her again. She watched as her opponents took two wary steps forward and then rushed her once more.

This time they leapt up to attack Kim from the air. Kim jumped up as well, intending to meet them head-on, but when she tried to execute a roundhouse kick, her legs wouldn't move the way she wanted. She couldn't pull the off the move, but the ninjas could. Two flying kicks connected solidly with Kim's chest sending her crashing back down to the floor.

Dizzy, Kim picked herself up and shook her head. Four ninjas advancing towards her became two as her vision cleared. Again, Kim tried to kick them away - staying on the ground this time - and again it failed, but now she saw the problem. Her dress! The hem was too tight. It was restricting her legs; she couldn't lift them up high enough to kick.

Suddenly the ninjas were in her face and Kim was barely able to lift her arms fast enough to block their blows. Her enemies saw that she was at a disadvantage; they could use four limbs each to attack while Kim had only two. They continued their assault, becoming nothing but a furious blur of arms and legs as Kim was pushed back towards the wall of the dressing room.

_It's like trying to fight some kind of karate-chopping octopus._ Then with a mental smile, she thought, _That is so something Ron would have said._

This battle could not go on like this. For each blow Kim blocked, another slipped through her defense. Her dress was even starting to affect her ability to evade. She simply could not move fast enough in that outfit.

"It may look fantastic and go great with my skin tone," Kim grunted through gritted teeth, "but I cannot fight in this." Keeping her eyes fixed on her foes, the teen hero started blindly reached for the buttons on the dress' belt, hoping to revert it back to its original super suit form. With most of her concentration focused on the ninjas, Kim could not immediately recall which button would do that. In desperation, she pushed the first button her fingers came in contact with, praying it was the right one.

The blue lining on the dress began to glow, signaling that a change, whatever it was, was about to happen. The ninjas leapt back, worried that the glow might mean some kind of special attack. The fabric of the dress came alive and retailored itself not into the super suit but a martial arts outfit: white long pants with a blue strip up the outside, a white sleeveless shirt with blue lining and a blue belt and wrist guards.

Kim stretched her legs, relishing the sudden freedom from that clingy dress. "Oh yeah, this'll work." Holding out her arm, she made a "come get some" motion with her hand. "What say we try this again?"

* * *

**_"Once again, that was Bonnie Rockwaller. An amazing performance, wasn't it folks? Miss Rockwaller appears almost guaranteed to win the title of Miss Fabulous!"_**

Bonnie exited the stage to thunderous applause that kept going well after the curtain had closed on her ballet act. Francois, Britina and Coco Banana all loved it if three standing ovations are anything to judge by. Bonnie's smile could not have been bigger or more smug as she passed by the other contestants, many of whom were still sporting bandages or bruises from Señor Senior's sabotaging.

**_"And now for our last contestant, please give a round of applause to Miss Anya Leavible!"_**

Everyone looked around expectantly, but Anya wasn't anywhere in sight. As the seconds ticked by, confused murmurs could be heard coming from the audience and the judges looked first expectant, then perplexed, impatient and finally annoyed. And still no Anya Leavible.

Finally, someone did come onto the stage, but it wasn't Anya; it was her manager. Good thing he wasn't in the beauty pageant because he wasn't looking too good right now. His rhinestone sunglasses were askew on his face which was looking slightly pale. His shoulders and arms were constantly twitching, making his oversized coat look like it was made of flowing water. One large hand nervously crushed his brown fedora while the other ran through a head of disheveled blond hair.

"Uh...hi everyone," the manager said hesitantly. "I'm sure you're all wondering where Anya is. Well...uh we're...that is she...is having...uh...some technical difficulties."

"Is Miss Leavible all right?" asked the Master of Ceremonies. "Will she be fit to perform."

"Yes! Yes, absolutely," was the manager's hasty reassurance. "Just give her a couple minutes and she'll be right out. Just talk amongst yourselves. Go fashion!" And with that, Ron sped back behind the curtain, leaving a bewildered audience behind.

"That was a close one, Rufus," gasped Ron, wiping sweat from his brow.

The naked mole rat in his pocket popped out, nodding in agreement and mimicking the actions of his owner.

"That's not gonna buy us a lot of time," mused Ron, glancing back towards the audience. "I just hope Kim gets here like she promised."

"Well, hello." Ron nearly jumped out of his pants at the voice behind him. He turned to see Señor Senior, Señor Junior and Bonnie all looking at him. Some distance behind the trio were the other contestants, all trying to eavesdrop on the conversation while trying not to look like they were eavesdropping.

Rufus dove back inside the pocket so the Seniors wouldn't recognize him. Ron took an involuntary step back from all the predatory gazes coming his way. "May I help you?" he asked hesitantly.

"We were just wondering where the indomitable Miss Leavible was?" asked Senior smoothly. "It is her turn, is it not?"

"It is not," Ron replied as confidently as he could. "I mean it is, it is. She'll be here any minute now."

"What's she doing anyway?' Bonnie asked rather rudely. "Doesn't she know some of us don't have all day to wait around to win?"

"She's...well she's...uh, powdering her nose."

Rufus crawled out of the jacket pocket and climbed up until he was behind Ron's head, hidden from view. The little rodent squeaked into his friend's ear.

"No, I don't know what it means," hissed Ron as quietly as he could. "I just know girls say that all the time."

"Or maybe she is scared and cannot bear to make a fool of herself in front of all these peoples," taunted Junior with a cruel sneer.

Few things could truly upset Ron Stoppable. Number one on the list: insulting Kim. Ron got right into Junior's face and angrily said, "She is not afraid. She is going to wipe the floor with you...or rather you." Ron corrected himself and pointed at Bonnie at that last part.

"Well then, why don't you go get her so we can settle this," said Bonnie with a raised eyebrow.

"Fine. I will. Just sit tight."

"I hope you can find her in time," said Senior with mock concern. "The judges will not wait much longer."

"Oh, I'll find her. Don't you worry," said Ron as he stomped off towards the dressing rooms. "Rufus," he whispered to his little friend. "I think it's time to worry."

"Uh huh," agreed Rufus.

As Ron headed out to find his girlfriend, Junior took Senior aside so that Bonnie couldn't hear them. "Father, are you sure Anya Leavible will not be doing her act?"

"Do not fear, my son," assured Senior. "As we speak, my handsomely paid evil henchmen are taking care of her as we speak."

"Could we not have simply paid Anya Leavible to forfeit instead of buying henchmen?"

Senior looked at his son with disappointment. "Junior, must I really explain the code of villainy to you yet again?"

* * *

Ron decided to start his search at Kim's dressing room, thinking that whatever Kim had been doing to investigate the Seniors, she must be done by now. Predictably, Kim was not there since at that moment the teen hero was still battling the two ninjas. Now that she was properly attired, Kim was able to put up a much better fight and the henchmen for hire quickly found themselves outmatched again. But then the battle spilled out into the hallway where a couple more ninjas were waiting, doubling the forces against Kim. She still managed to hold her own though as the fight moved all five combatants down the corridor right past Kim's dressing room door. Hearing the commotion outside, Ron stuck his head out of the room to take a peek, but the battle had already moved on by then and the young man saw nothing.

That's when the announcer's voice came through the overhead speakers.

**_"Anya Leavible has one minute to appear on stage or she will be disqualified."_**

"Oh man, Rufus," said Ron as he drew his head in and closed the dressing room door. "We've got a grande-sized problem on our hands."

Perched on Ron's shoulder, Rufus patted his friend's cheek and squeaked in a sympathetic way.

Without warning, Ron's frustration burst forth. "I should have known. I should have seen this coming," he ranted as he paced across the room. "Kim just has the lousiest luck with talent contests. You know, I'm surprised that I'm surprised that this happened. Why did I think this time would be different? KP's gonna get booted out of the pageant and she's nowhere to be found."

Rufus hopped off Ron's shoulder onto a chair and chittered at him, shaking his finger like a lecturing parent.

"Your right, Rufus," said a now calm Ron. "Kim is working on keeping the tiara safe. That's the real reason we're here. I just had to get that out of my system. Sorry."

"S' okay," the rodent squeaked.

"But we still have to keep Kim in the pageant," said Ron and Rufus could practically see the light bulb go off over the teen's head. "There's only one thing to do."

Kim hadn't brought much in the way of a wardrobe to the pageant since she had the shape-shifting suit, so unlike most contestants, there was no trunk full of clothes or giant piece of luggage with beauty products. They had, however, brought one bag with them at Ron's insistence and it was this bag that the young man was now rummaging through.

"I knew I'd need this," said Ron as he pulled out a white and blue dress almost identical to the one Kim had planned to wear onstage for the talent section. He also had a platinum wig and a pair of blue contacts straight out of his mask making kit. "I'll dress up as Anya and do the act for KP. That way, no one will get suspicious when she doesn't show up."

Rufus folded his tiny arms and gave Ron a very skeptical look.

"That's the only reason I brought this dress," insisted Ron.

Still with the skeptical look.

"Honest!"

* * *

**_"Last call for Anya Leavible. Please take your place on stage immediately."_**

Señor Senior Senior chuckled as he casually checked his pocket watch. "Only a few more seconds to go." Slipping the watch back into his pocket and turning to Bonnie, he said, "My dear, I think you should start rehearsing your victory speech."

"Oh, don't worry," Bonnie said dismissively. "I had one prepared the instant I entered this contest."

Her confidence brought a smile to Senior's aged face. "Soon, my son," he whispered to Junior, "we shall be the new rulers of the wealthiest country in the world." It was then that the elder man noticed that Junior did not look as happy as he ought to. The younger male was glancing about wildly, anxiety written all over his face. "Junior, what is wrong?"

"I just want Bonnie to win so badly, Father," said Junior, biting his perfectly manicured nails. "Being a manager is so much more nerve wracking than actually being the star."

"I told you there was nothing to worry about," Senior assured his jittery son. "Barring some outrageously unforeseen circumstance, nothing will be able to stop us now."

Just then, every head turned towards some kind of commotion coming from the dressing room corridor. There were shouts and bangs and thuds; it sounded like someone was bouncing something heavy against the walls. Two stagehands started forward to investigate the noises when Anya Leavible and the quartet of ninjas, who were still locked in fierce battle, spilled out of the corridor. Every face registered absolute shock as the young pageant hopeful leapt effortlessly through the air and traded blows with the black clad figures. It was like watching a Bruce Lee movie.

"Would that be an unforeseen circumstance, Father," asked Junior innocently to a seething Senior. "I don't think this counts since I can clearly see it."

Open-mouthed spectators hastened to make way for the five warriors, wanting no part of whatever this was. The fight quickly moved across the backstage area and eventually burst out onto the stage proper, eliciting a collective gasp from the audience. None of the combatants gave the slightest notice; their sole focus was on each other.

A deadly silence filled the air as the fighters considered their next move. The ninjas kept a tight circle around Kim, making sure she had no way to escape. The teen hero kept her eyes on the two ninjas in front of her, not bothering to turn and look at the pair behind her and make herself vulnerable to attack. She instead relied on her ears; if she concentrated, Kim could just make out the faint sound of cloth rubbing against itself as the ninjas moved. Kim kept her arms up, her legs bend and her mind still. Her weight was balanced on the balls of her bare feet to make it easier to charge ahead or spring to the side.

For a full minute, the ninjas hung back. They shifted from side to side, looking for an opening, but did not attack. Kim though she might have to make the first move, but then the two fighters in front of her charged. Patiently, Kim waited until they were almost upon her and then sprang up and did a split kick, knocking each ninja to opposite sides of the stage. As this was happening, another ninja rushed up from behind, hoping to catch Kim off guard, but the teen hero was ready for that. As the ninja punched, Kim grabbed his arm and flung him over her shoulder. Pivoting from the throw, Kim grabbed the leg of the last ninja in the middle of his flying kick and threw him into his buddy, knocking both out cold.

By now, both of the first two ninjas had gotten back up and witnessed the fall of their comrades. They decided that this embarrassment had gone on for far too long. Each one drew a sword and advanced on Kim, their beady black eyes flashing with hatred.

Swords upped the danger, but they weren't anything to be too worried about as far as Kim was concerned. It was no worse than going up against Shego or henchmen armed with Shock Batons.

The ninja on Kim's left made a sudden dash, swinging his sword somewhat wildly. Moving only enough to avoid being skewered, Kim held her ground and deftly avoided each cut. Frustrated, the ninja brought the sword down in a powerful overhead cut to finish Kim, but she managed to catch it between her hands all of an inch from her face. Muscles strained as the two fought for control, the blade moving ever closer to Kim. With a mighty heave, Kim brought the sword down to the floor and the ninja with it who Kim promptly kicked in the stomach. Doubled over in pain, the ninja staggered back and managed to raise his head just in time to see Kim knock him out with one punch.

Finally, Kim faced off against the last ninja who by now was utterly confused as to how to assault the teenage hero. She seemed to have a defense for every attack. Kim took the matter out of his hands by letting loose a powerful battle cry and launching herself at her opponent. Kim's savage cry unsettled the ninja, as was intended, but he recovered quickly and thrust his sword forward. Kim tucked into a ball and rolled between the ninja's legs. As the ninja turned, Kim used all her strength to land an uppercut to the enemy fighter's jaw. The ninja flew up almost to the catwalk overhead before crashing back down to the stage, completely unconscious.

Breathing heavily, Kim allowed her muscles to relax, feeling fatigue and lingering excitement from the battle. She looked over each one of the ninjas to be absolutely certain they wouldn't be getting back up and then mentally assessed her condition. No broken bones or pulled muscles. No abnormal aches or pains. No cuts to treat or wounds to patch. All in all, not too shabby.

Only then did Kim turn and see the hundreds of pairs of eyes gawking at her. Only then did Kim realize that she was fighting those ninjas when she was supposed to be performing for the talent contest. Only then did Kim consider that she may have just completely blown her cover.

By reflex, her hand darted to her neck in hopes that the transforming necklace was there. It was. Anya fought those ninjas, not Kim.

"Um...", said Kim, wringing her hands in front of her. She was at a loss as to what to do now. How was she supposed to explain this? Looking out at the sea of frozen faces, Kim said the only thing she could think of. "Ta da?"

Insanity ensued as the audience, the judges and all the people clinging to the back fence burst into applause, shouting and whistling their amazement. It was an ovation that far surpassed the one Bonnie has received. The cacophony was so great, Kim fought the urge to cover her ears.

"Bravo! Bravo!" cheered Coco Banana as he clapped, not even bothering to tell his bodyguard to do it for him. "That performance was spectacular. And that outfit...magnificent! A perfect blending of form and function."

Britina was equally impressed. "Anya managed to showcase the beauty of women while also demonstrating their power."

"And all without a hair out of place," added Francois.

Bowing to the judges and mumbling a few humble thank yous, Kim walked backwards through the curtain to the backstage area where she was again assaulted by another deafening round of applause. All the other contestants rushed forward to congratulate Kim, to tell her that they'd never before seen anything as thrilling during their pageant careers and to assure her that she'd take first place for certain.

"Ki- Anya! Hey, Anya!"

Kim saw Ron pushing his way through the mob and asked the other girls to let him through. When they met, Ron threw his arms around his girlfriend in a short, but heartfelt hug. After breaking apart, Ron kept his hands gently on Kim's shoulders as he said, "You were incredible! Beyond badical!"

"Thanks, Ron" said Kim. Out of all the praise she'd received, Ron's was easily the most important to her.

"First place here we come," announced Ron as he pulled Kim into another hug. Placing his mouth close to Kim's ear, Ron asked in a voice laced with worry, "You alright, KP?" Despite what everyone else believed, he knew that fight had not been part of the show.

"So not the drama, Ron," answered Kim, full of confidence. "I got what we need to convict the Seniors. This mission is one call to Wade away from completion."

Ron smiled, giving Kim an extra squeeze to show how glad he was that she succeeded and that she was safe. The two young lovers remained locked in their embrace for a few moments more while the young women around them cooed at the touching scene.

"Oh, gag me," spat Bonnie, completely unmoved by the display of affection. "I haven't seen this much sugary sweetness since that charity flapjack sale I was forced into."

"They do make a nice couple," admitted Junior, "in a weird, goofy kind of way."

"Well, why don't you go support them if you like them so much," spat Bonnie at her boyfriend.

"Oh, no, my sweet, I did not mean..."

"Save it," ordered Bonnie, holding her palm out to Junior. "I have to get ready for the final part of the pageant I'm going to knock out Miss Perfect since _someone_ couldn't handle it." Bonnie got right up into Señor Senior's face before leaving in a huff, but the older millionaire ignored her. Instead, he looked disdainfully at his hired ninjas now being dragged away by pageant security.

"It is pathetic what passes for an evil ninja these days," Senior commented.

"What do we do now, Father," said a desperate Junior. All his previous faith in Bonnie's ability to win the pageant had left him in the wake of her string of losses. "How can we win now? Nothing that we have thrown at Anya Leavible has worked. She cannot be stopped. It is impossible."

"No, my son. Not _im_possible," said Senior as he stroked his chin in thought, his eyes now locked on the young couple. "But you are close. Very close."

* * *

_Not bad, eh? Kim's got the judges eating out of her hands now, but it looks like Senior is on to her. I know Bonnie's act in this chapter is nearly identical to the one she did in the Hidden Talent KP episode. I hate to seem like a copy cat, but honesty, I couldn't think of anything better for her to do. I used up all my other good talent ideas for the other contestants. I hope the battle scene didn't come across as too wordy or boring; battles are tricky to write. Side note: I'd like to point out that my Janette character and her baton twirling act are both taken from the Alvin and the Chipmunks episode, "My Fair Chipette". In that episode, Jeanette does the same act in a beauty pageant so Alvin can win a few bucks. Ah, the '80's._

_Tune in next time for the thrilling conclusion to Fairest of Them All. As always, reviews and constructive criticism are welcome. Thank you._


	6. Chapter 6 - She's Miss Fabulous

_Hello again, all. Well, here it is. The final chapter to Fairest of Them All. I've had a lot of fun writing this and I'd like to thank everybody whose read and/or reviewed my story. This will probably be the last KP fic I write for awhile. I have a HHTYD and Pokémon one-shot I've been meaning to start. You can probably expect those sometime in the summer. Plus my Smash Bros. fic - Subspace Redux - is in serious need of some love. _

_On with the story! Last time, the Seniors tried sabotaging the other contestants. It mostly worked, except the ninjas Senior sent out to deal with Kim - a.k.a Anya - couldn't cut it. But now, he's starting to suspect that Anya Leavible is not all she appears to be and with only one round left in the pageant, the pressure's on the see who will get the tiara. And now, the exciting conclusion to Fairest of Them All._

* * *

**Chapter 6 - She's Miss Fabulous**

"We hit the jackpot, KP."

Kim nodded absently in agreement. After they had managed to finally escape from the other contestants after the talent round, the duo had retreated to Kim's dressing room. Once there, she took out the Kimmunicator and showed Ron the photos she had taken of the robbery plan that she'd found in Senior's briefcase. "This should be more than enough to prove the Seniors were involved in the robbery.

"But we can't prove they sabotaged the other pageant contestants," protested Ron.

"That doesn't matter," Kim insisted, wiggling her handheld device. "This will get them arrested and away from the tiara."

"And prevent them from becoming rulers of the richest country in the world," Ron added. He looked at Kim expectantly, a wide, toothy grin on his face.

"No."

"Aw, come on, KP," Ron whined. "You gotta do it."

"Ron, I said no," Kim said curtly. "It's ridiculous."

That's when Ron pulled out his own version of Kim's patented Puppy Dog Pout. He clasped his hands together underneath his chin, stuck his bottom lip out and opened his eyes as wide as he could. Rufus even joined in, sitting on top of his owner's head and mimicking the outrageous facial expression. It wasn't nearly as cute as when Kim did it, but somehow it always managed to have the same effect on her.

With a huff, Kim reluctantly said, "How rich is it?"

The excited grin was back as Ron replied with the air of a vaudeville showman, "It's so rich, the police give tickets to people for driving cheap cars."

Rufus fell over, rolling through Ron's thick hair as he laughed merrily at the joke. Ron himself was holding his stomach, he was cackling so hard. Kim just shook her head, but there was an affectionate smirk as she muttered, "Boys." Pushing a few buttons on the Kimmunicator, the teen hero sent the file full of evidence to Wade, the device's screen showing the progress of the upload.

"Okay," said Kim, "Once Wade gets the file, he'll call the police, Senior and Junior will be arrested and we'll send the crown back to Anvaloppia where it'll be safe."

"One tiny problem there, Kimbo," said Ron, pointing to his watch. "The last round of the pageant starts in, like...now. What if the police don't get here in time?"

"They should be able to make it by the end of the contest," Kim assured her partner. "Until then, we'll just have to stall and keep the Seniors and Bonnie away from the tiara."

"And to do that, KP, you are going to have to win this pageant," said Ron, completely pumped.

"Right. Let's go." Kim reached for the morphing necklace on the table, but stopped when Ron's hand covered her own.

"KP," started Ron in a much calmer and more serious tone. Kim raised an eyebrow; Ron hardly ever spoke like that. "How about you don't wear the necklace for the final round?"

For a moment, Kim's emerald eyes dilated and her bottom lip trembled a bit. Such an expression of fear lasted for less than a second before the young woman managed to cover it up, but it did not go unnoticed by Ron. Turning her head away from him, in a voice that was all business, Kim said, "I have to wear it, Ron. Remember, we're still undercover here."

The young man's large hand gently squeezed Kim's smaller one. "That was so we could find out who was trying to steal the tiara and stop them. We've so been there and done that. Now maybe you can let your true self show."

Instead of the encouraging effect Ron thought this request would have, he felt Kim's muscles tighten as she pulled away from him. The young woman wrapped her arms around herself and threw a nasty look over her shoulder as she retreated to a corner of the room. "You don't understand," she grumbled.

"No, I don't," said Ron desperately. "Where is this sudden stage fright coming from? The talent show and American Starmaker thing I get; you don't like to sing in front of people, there's a history there. Believe me, I understand about traumatic childhood events. But other than that, you've never had a problem with crowds before. You're a cheerleader for crying out loud. Plus, you've spoken at press conferences, done TV interviews..."

"That's all different, Ron," Kim insisted. She racked her brain for a way to accurately convey what she was feeling to her lifelong friend, but could only come up with, "A beauty pageant is just...different."

"How?" demanded Ron. "How is it different? I mean, you're still in front of people, right, so how..."

"It wasn't all about beauty, okay!" screamed Kim. "Those other times I performed or talked in front of a crowd, they weren't judging me solely on my looks."

Ron was shocked into silence. Kim never yelled like that. Not to him. Not to anyone. He didn't really know what to say to Kim's outburst, but his girlfriend saved him the trouble by continuing.

"I'm not naive. I know that at football games and regional tournaments, the boys are only watching me because I'm flipping and twirling in a short skirt in front of them." Unnoticed by Kim, Ron blushed, silently admitting that he too liked to see that. "And I know the girls in the crowd and the other teams are checking my face and figure for any flaw, constantly comparing my features to theirs."

Kim's voice was laden with sorrow and despair; it broke Ron's heart to hear it. "But at least I can pretend. I can pretend that they're only judging my performance; that my talent is why they're looking at me, not to see if I'm pretty or not."

"But you are pretty," said Ron with conviction. He grabbed Kim's arms and spun her around, forcing her to look at him. "You're gorgeous."

"No, Ron. Those girls out there are gorgeous," said Kim, throwing an arm out towards the dressing room door and the stage beyond.

"You're far from ugly," Ron said softly.

"I know that," said Kim, a little petulantly. "But I'm certainly not in the other contestants' league." Kim knew she was acting childish and she hated herself for it, but these feelings of inadequacy and anxiety would not go away. She just didn't know how to deal with them.

A string of compliments sprang up in Ron's mind, but in her current state Kim wouldn't believe any of them or just ignore them completely, which irked Ron the tiniest bit. "Then go out there and pretend it's just another cheerleading competition. Pretend that all those people aren't interested in how you look."

"How can I do that, Ron, when the whole point of this contest is about how I look? I mean, it's even in the title: _beauty_ pageant." With a huff, Kim crossed the room, turning her back to Ron once again. "If I want to have any chance at staying in the contest to stop the Seniors, I need to wear the necklace."

Ron had to admit to himself that he was a little disappointed in Kim for thinking of herself that way. The girl who could look at a scrawny geek like him and see a person not only worth dating but loving just could not see how wonderful she was.

"It's like something out of the Twilight Zone, huh Rufus?"

The bald rodent nodded sadly from Ron's jacket pocket.

Giving an audible sigh, Ron looked down at the cursed necklace waiting on the wooden surface of the table. As far as Ron was concerned, that thing had done more harm to his Kim than any help it had given to the mission. He ought to just get rid of the thing. Still, Kim's happiness meant to world to him and he wasn't about to become the cause of any more distress.

Taking the necklace in his hands, Ron made his way over to Kim, who heard his approach, but still refused to look at him. "Ron, please just..." Her voice caught in her throat as the teen hero felt a weight fall gently around her neck. She looked down to see the necklace and finally turned to greet her smiling boyfriend who was forced to watch Kim's perfect face morphed into a wholly inferior version.

"Look, Kim, I still say you don't need this thing," said Ron, drawing his finger down the length of the necklace's chord, lightly touching the skin on Kim's neck, making her shiver. Before his girlfriend could retort, he continued, "But, if that's what you want, then I'm behind you. One hundred percent, just like always."

Watery green eyes met compassionate brown and then Kim flung her arms around Ron's neck. The young boy returned the hug in kind as a quiet, but heartfelt "thank you" was whispered in his ear.

"A truly touching scene."

The young couple spun around to see both Señor Senior and Señor Junior standing in the open door of the dressing room. Before either hero could react, Senior whipped out his special pistol and fired a thick stream of green glop at the duo. Both Kim and Ron were hit, the glop sticking fast to their clothing. The pressure from the spray knocked them to the floor. Senior kept firing until Team Possible was nothing more than two heads sticking out of a great green blob.

Kim and Ron twisted and pulled with all their might, but it was no use; they couldn't get up.

"I believe that will finally take care of our competition, Junior," said Senior, keeping his gun trained on the cocooned heroes.

Kim's mind worked fast. She'd been caught completely unawares by the Seniors and what was worse, she didn't know how long they had been standing in the room. It was entirely possible that they'd seen her without her disguise. Still, she had to take the chance that they were still in the dark. Putting on her best diva face and slipping into her Anya Leavible accent, Kim demanded, "What is the meaning of this? I insist that you release us this minute!"

"Yeah," Ron chimed in. "This is completely against the beauty pageant code. Article 6, chapter 9, paragraph 3 states that no contestant will be trapped in...whatever this stuff is. I'll report you to the BBB."

"The BBB?" asked Junior.

"The Better Beauty Bureau," Ron said triumphantly.

"Father, you did not say anything about being reported," said a panicky Junior. "That would be a blow to my managing career."

Senior raised a hand to silence his son and spoke harshly, "Junior, please, not now." Allowing a friendly smile on his face, the older villains placed both hands comfortably on the top of his cane and addressed Kim. "I have been eager to meet with you all day, Miss Leavible."

"Let us go right know," Kim said in her accent. She was still trying to bluff their way out, but a sinking feeling in her stomach told her the jig was up. "I must get to the stage for the final round of the pageant."

"I'm afraid that, for you, the pageant is over, Miss Leavible," said Senior. "Or should I say, Miss Possible?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," said Kim, trying very hard not to look over at Ron's startled face.

Senior's eyes flickered over to Ron before he pointed his cane at Kim's neck. "I think you do."

Kim was calm in the face of Senior's accusation while Ron struggled all the harder, desperate to protect Kim from the villain and what he saw as a potentially dangerous weapon creeping closer to his girlfriend's throat . The tip of the cane penetrated the surface of the green goop and Kim felt the polished wood rub against her skin. With a quick jerk, Senior pulled the cane back out bringing with it Kim's morphing necklace dangling from the end. The young woman felt the familiar itchiness as her face rearranged itself; her eyes changed back to emerald and her hair became fiery red again.

Señor Senior chuckled in delight as Kim stared stone-faced at the older man. "Okay, so you found us out," said Kim. "It doesn't matter. By now, Wade has all the evidence I found in your dressing room and has called the authorities to arrest you."

The smile never left his face as Senior backed away from Kim and flicked his cane, sending the necklace skittering to the floor. "That would be a serious drawback to my plans," admitted Senior, "if I was not blocking all electronic information transfers from within the arena."

A shadow of worry fell across Kim's eyes as she watched Senior extract a small, grey box with several blinking red lights from his pocket. The teen hero glanced down at her Kimmunicator on the floor which had fallen from her pocket during Senior's attack. Sure enough, the screen was showing an error message indicating that the file download had been interrupted.

Kim was about to respond to Señor Senior when the dressing room door opened again and Bonnie marched in causing Junior, Ron and even Senior to do a double take at her appearance. The deeply tanned teen was wearing a hot pink bikini that was certainly skimpier than anything Kim would dare wear.

Bonnie's bare foot tapped impatiently against the carpet as she stood before her beau. Her arms were crossed tightly against her chest, squeezing the life out of the fluffy bathrobe she'd been carrying.

"Junior," she snapped. "I have been looking everywhere for you. I need you to rub some oil on my back."

The young rich man failed to answer due to the fact that his jaw was swinging off its hinges.

"Junior!"

"Huh? Wha?" Junior seemed to be coming around, but he still couldn't take his eyes off his girlfriend. "Did you say oil?"

"Yes, oil," Bonnie said. "It helps my skin to glisten so that I don't actually have to sweat."

"That is still so sick," muttered Kim. The goop around her shoulders jiggled as she shuttered in disgust.

"Jealousy looks good on you, K. It goes with your eyes," was Bonnie's automatic response. Then she realized what she said and turned in angry surprise at the heroes trapped on the floor. "Kim?! What are you and your lapdog doing here?"

"Well, we were just in the neighborhood," said Ron, "and we thought we'd drop by to wish you good luck in the pageant."

"And what is that green slime you're sitting in?" asked Bonnie.

"This?" said Ron, looking down at the goop. "Well...you see, I had some old gum in my pocket and..."

"Oh, stow it, Loser," snapped Bonnie, turning her back on Ron. "Now, I won't ask again, what are you doing here, Kim?"

Junior was the one to answer. "She has been participating in the pageant, Bonnie."

"Kim Possible? In a beauty pageant?" The idea was completely laughable to Bonnie and that's just what she did, loud and long much to Kim's embarrassment and irritation. "Even if K did have the guts to go up against me, I would have spotted her from a mile away."

"Ah, but you see, my dear," said Senior, laying a wrinkled hand on Bonnie's shoulder, "Miss Possible has been masquerading as Miss Anya Leavible, the young girl who has been - what is the saying: 'wiping the floor with you' in every round of the pageant ."

Senior didn't go into detail about how Kim had been in disguise. Just as well, since Bonnie wouldn't have understood or cared. As soon as she heard that Kim had been competing against her, her face turned beet red and she shouted, "Kim! It's bad enough you think you're better than me in cheerleading, but now you have to try and show me up in my beauty pageant too?"

"Bonnie," said Kim in exasperation, "not everything I do revolves around you."

"You entered the pageant, didn't you?" accused Bonnie.

"Obviously," replied Kim.

"And you're trying to keep me from winning, right?"

"Well...technically, yes."

"Then I'd say this does revolve around me."

"She's got a point, KP," said Ron.

Kim growled at Ron's unhelpful remark. She did some quick thinking; odds were, the Seniors had not told Bonnie about their scheme. If she could get Bonnie on her side, they might still be able to save the day. That was a big 'if', though. But Kim knew that the way to Bonnie's heart was through her ego. "Listen Bonnie, the Seniors are using you. They only entered you in this pageant to fulfill their own plans."

Both Senior and Junior stiffened as Kim talked, but Bonnie looked as if she couldn't care less. "What are you babbling about, Kim?" she asked in a bored voice.

"They want to get their hands on the first place tiara. They tried to steal it, but failed. So now, they're using you in the pageant to win in."

Kim saw Bonnie's eyes flash and her nostrils flare. As predicted, her rival, so used to manipulating high school students, couldn't stand the fact that she was the one being played.

But then anger gave way to confusion as Bonnie asked, "Why would Senior or Junior want the tiara? It's expensive, sure, but a pittance compared to other artifacts they have." With a smug grin, she continued, "I should know. I've worn them."

Time to go for broke. "The tiara is the key to the monarchy of Anvaloppia," explained Kim.

"Yeah and if they get it, they'll become the rulers of their own country," added Ron.

"Think about it, Bonnie," Kim warned. " Señor Senior Senior is a criminal mastermind. With an entire country under his control, there's no telling the havoc he could cause."

"As long as he doesn't cause it at this pageant, who cares?" asked the unconcerned young woman. "I intend to win and with you stuck in here, that is guaranteed. Not that you had any real chance of beating me anyway."

"Appealing to Bon-Bon's sense of justice," mused Ron. "Talk about your long shots, KP."

"Desperate times call for desperate measures, Ron."

"On the other hand…" Bonnie paused and seemed to be thinking over what Kim and Ron had told her. "If it gets out that my managers are thieves…That's just the sort of dirt that could make me lose my title. Or worse…" the young girl's eyes widened in horror, "…the beauty pageant committee might start investigating my past wins. And I can't have that." Bonnie nodded resolutely and turned to the Seniors. "I'm going to report you two to the judges."

"Not exactly what I was going for," said Kim, "But whatever works."

"Bonnie, dearest, wait a moment," said Junior, stepping in front of his girlfriend. She stood there impatiently with her hands on her hips. "If Father and I are arrested, you will lose access to our money." Junior wasn't the brightest bulb, but he understood and sympathized with Bonnie's Material Girl attitude. "I won't be able to buy you any of those expensive gifts you like so much."

Bonnie just laughed at the flimsy threat. "Once I win this pageant, those fashion moguls in the audience will be fighting over themselves trying to make a deal with me. I'll be rich without you."

To that, Junior had no answer. In desperation, he turned to Senior. "Father, please, say something."

Señor Senior gazed at Bonnie for a minute that seemed to drag on forever. He stared at her as if trying to see right through her; to determine if she really would rat Junior and him out. Finally, in defeat, he said, "If you feel the need to alert the authorities about us, Miss Rockwaller, then by all means, that is what you should do."

Two pairs of astonished eyes, one pair of disbelieving eyes and another pair of victorious eyes all regarded the elderly millionaire who simply maintained an aura of passive calmness throughout.

"Father, that is not what I had in mind at all," wailed Junior.

"Now Junior," admonished Senior, "Miss Rockwaller must do what she needs to do to protect her career. We cannot stand in her way."

"Sure you can," cried Ron. "My parents do it to me all the time."

"Glad you see it my way," said Bonnie as she flippantly tossed her hair over her shoulder and strode towards the door.

But Senior wasn't finished yet. "And if being Miss Fabulous is the best you think you can do then we should support that."

Bonnie's determined stride turned into an hesitating stroll before coming to a dead stop. She turned towards Senior with a confused look. "What exactly do you mean 'the best I think I can do'?"

The elder man smiled like a used car salesman; he had her now. In an innocent tone, he said, "I just thought a young lady such as yourself would aspire to something a bit better than a mere beauty queen."

"Like what?" Bonnie asked.

"Why, being a real queen, of course," reply Senior as if it was the most obvious answer.

"A real queen? Like, of a real country?"

"A small one, yes, but one overflowing with riches."

At first, Bonnie said nothing. In fact, she looked at Senior as if he were crazy to even suggest something so outlandish. But then she began to consider. Was it really such an insane thought? After all, wasn't she already the queen of Middleton High School? Becoming official royalty was the next logical step. Before she knew it, Bonnie was fantasizing about sitting on a throne of gold, servants catering to her every whim as her sisters knelt in front of her, begging her to forgive a lifetime of insults and torment.

Senior watched as the spark of greed filled Bonnie's eyes and knew that he'd won her over.

Kim saw it too and rushed to try and get Bonnie on her side again. "Bonnie, don't. Senior's just trying to use you. As soon as you win the tiara he'll…"

"Oh, zip it, Kim," snapped Bonnie. She pointed an accusatory finger at her rival and continued, "You always have to try and bring me down, but not this time."

"That's right," said Senior encouragingly. "Junior and I will keep Miss Possible and Mr. Stoppable in here while you go out there and win the tiara. Then we...that is, you...will be the ruler of the richest country in the world."

Junior patted his father on the elbow and giggled, "How rich is it, Father?"

"It is so rich, Junior, that not even the weather can afford to move there."

Both of the rich men had a laugh and even Ron snickered at the joke.

"Tsh, boys," muttered Bonnie.

"I know, right?" said Kim.

"Come now, my dear," said Senior, leading Bonnie to the door. "Your destiny awaits."

Before she left, Bonnie turned back and said, "You should have taken my advice and dropped out when you could have, Kim. Too bad, so sad." And then she and the Seniors left, slamming the door behind them.

Señor Senior addressed two burly men standing guard at the dressing room door. "No one gets in or out of this room until the pageant is over." The men nodded mutely in understanding.

"I can't wait to see Kim's face the next time I see her wearing the tiara," said Bonnie gleefully as she practically skipped off to the stage.

"Father," said Junior, lowering his voice, "I thought the plan was for us to be the rulers, not Bonnie."

"It is unavoidable, my son, since Miss Possible spilled the beans, as it were," said Senior with a resound sigh. "But it doesn't matter since we will be the new queen's royal advisors. Every great strategist knows that the real power behind the crown lies with the men who work secretly in the shadows."

"Should I maybe get some flashlights?" asked Junior.

"Whatever for?"

"Well, if we are to work in the shadows, how else will we be able to see in the dark?"

"Junior, I do not believe there is a flashlight bright enough to get you out of the dark."

* * *

Back in the dressing room, Kim and Ron has started struggling again as soon as everyone left, but although they pulled and squirmed with all their might, they couldn't get loose.

"This is, without a doubt, the most disgusting trap we've ever been in," said Kim.

"Oh, I don't know. That time Gil spit up on the entire cheerleading squad was pretty gross," said Ron, as he started to reminisce. "That was one of my finer moments. If it weren't for Rufus and me, you girls would have been...Wait." Ron whipped his head around frantically. "Where is Rufus?"

At the mention of his name, the naked mole rat popped out of the green goop with a great gasp.

"Rufus! Ah man, I was worried for a minute there, buddy."

"I'm okay," Rufus squeaked. The smallest member of Team Possible had dived back into Ron's jacket pocket as soon as the Seniors had burst in. He'd been laying in wait within the goop until he couldn't hold his breath any longer and had to surface. Rufus backstroked across the surface of the goop bubble and climbed up onto the dressing table. He chattered at his two friends in a worried tone.

"Don't worry, buddy, we're okay," assured Ron. "Just a little bogged down at the moment. Hey, wait a minute. How'd you get out of this stuff so easily?"

"I dunno," shrugged Rufus.

"Hmm, I wonder," Kim said to herself. With renewed effort, Kim put all her strength into lifting her right arm. Luckily, it was close to the surface of the goop bubble. Slowly, her slim fingers poked their way out of the green glop, then her palm and finally her whole hand. That was as far as she could get.

"I knew it. Ron, take a look at this."

The young man looked at his girlfriend's wiggling hand. "Kim, do you really thing this is the time for shadow puppets?"

"Ron, the reason Rufus escaped so easily is because he's a _naked_ mole rat. This stuff must not stick to skin."

"That's great for Rufus, but it doesn't help us."

"Not necessarily," said Kim as her hand disappeared back under the goop. "If I can just get..." The muscles in Kim's face twitched with strain, but whatever she was trying to do obviously wasn't working. Nothing happened. "Rufus, can you help me out here?"

The little rodent saluted and with all the grace of an Olympic diver, plunged back into the goopy soup and swam over to Kim's side.

"I need you to push a button on the belt of my pageant suit," instructed Kim. "Last one on the left."

"Last one on the left?" muttered Ron as Rufus' head disappeared beneath the goo. "Isn't that the..."

"Yup."

Rufus' little, but powerful legs easily motored through the slime. He pressed the desired button on Kim's belt and headed up to the surface. As his head broke through to fresh air, the green goop took on a blue tint from the glowing morphing suit. Quickly, the fabric of the suit receded from Kim's skin, as did the goop, until the young woman was clad only in a sickly lime swimsuit.

Even though Kim was now mostly goop free, she was still trapped. Thick strands of the green gunk tied her bikini top and bottom to the carpeted floor. Bending her legs, Kim managed to get her feet underneath her and braced her hands against the floor for leverage.

"One...two...three!" Kim flexed her bare legs, tugging against the goop ropes which thinned and snapped until finally she was completely free.

"All right, KP!" shouted Ron. "You got free and may I say you looked good doing it."

"Thanks Ron," Kim said absently as she picked the remaining globs of goop off her bathing suit. She was just about to reach down to help her boyfriend up when the two burly guards, alerted by Ron's shout, burst into the room. Quickly getting over her initial surprise, Kim leapt towards the henchman and delivered a series of quick jabs at their stomachs, but a couple of annoyed grunts was all she was rewarded with.

"Ow," moaned Kim, shaking the ache from her hands. She'd seen brick walls softer than these two.

One of the goons moved to close and block the dressing room door while the other aimed the goop pistol at Kim. Senior must have given it to him just in case. He fired a couple of times, but Kim's cheerleading-born flexibility allowed her to effortlessly dodge. The goop harmlessly hit the walls and one well-placed roundhouse kick ended the threat of the pistol.

Rubbing his wrist, the first goon looked to the second who gave a sharp nod and both henchmen converged on Kim. The teen hero was starting to get just the tiniest bit worried, but kept up a confident façade. The guards tried to knock her out with haymakers and powerful uppercuts while Kim struck back with lighting kicks and kung fu strikes, but it did neither side any good. Kim wasn't powerful enough to really hurt the henchmen and the henchmen weren't fast enough to catch Kim, but they were succeeding in driving her towards one corner of the room.

Kim realized she was about to be trapped. Turning away from the henchman, she jumped up, planted her bare feet against the wall and back flipped over the goons' head. The move almost worked except that one of the men got Kim with a lucky backhand blow and sent her sprawling across the floor.

The teen hero picked herself up, shaking her head and wincing at the sharp sting of carpet burns on her exposed skin. She looked up and saw the two villainous flunkies advancing on her.

"Hang on, KP," shouted Ron as he renewed his struggle to get free, but the goop still clung stubbornly to his clothing. "This would sure be a good time for me to lose my pants," he muttered. "Rufus, Kim needs an assist."

The little rodent gave a salute and bounded across the floor towards the nearest henchman. His tiny claws dug into the course fabric of the man's slacks as Rufus climbed up and up until he reached a neck thicker than a jumbo jar of Nacho Cheese dip. With a feral growl, Rufus dug his sharp front teeth into the exposed skin. The henchman, however, barely felt the attack and raised his hand merely to scratch at an itch, knocking Rufus off his shoulder in the process.

"Oooh, sorry," the poor little guy squeaked.

"Good try, buddy," said Ron, his eyes downcast in defeat. Then his eyes lit up as he spotted something on the floor. Pointing with his chin, Ron said, "Rufus, check it out."

Rufus turned and saw the weird goop-shooting gun Kim had kicked out of the goon's hand. Double time, the naked mole rat bounded over and tugged at the weapon. It was too big for Rufus to lift up completely, but he could set it upright on the floor.

"Let 'er rip, Rufus!"

The rodent pulled on the pistol's trigger and shot a thin stream of green glop that hit the henchmen's feet and stopped them in their tracks.

"Booyah!" cried Ron.

The two goons looked down, blinking stupidly at the restricting gunk now covering their shoes. A swift tug of each leg and the sticky strands snapped like stretched rubber bands.

"Need a rain check on that Booyah," muttered Ron.

One of the henchmen headed towards Rufus to retrieve his gun while the other faced off against Kim.

"Rufus," the young heroine barked, "Use the gun on Ron."

"Huh!" came the twin response.

"Gun...must have...a reverse," Kim grunted out as she struggled to stay out of the henchman's grasp.

Rufus gave the side of the weapon a closer look. Sure enough, there was a switch with two settings: Stick and Unstick. Pivoting the butt of the pistol against the floor, Rufus managed to turn the gun to face Ron, placing both of his paws on either side to stabilize it. He flicked the switch to the Unstick position and fired. This time, a thick orange liquid sprayed out from the gun's nozzle which quickly dissolved the green gunk surrounding Ron into a harmless puddle.

"Alright Rufus," cheered Ron as he flexed his limbs and wiggles his fingers, relishing the feeling of freedom.

"No big," squeaked Rufus, looking quite proud of himself.

A shadow fell across the hairless rodent. Rufus looked up to see one of the henchmen looming over him, reaching down to grab him.

"Way big!" cried Rufus as he sprinted up Ron's leg and hid himself back within his jacket pocket home.

"Time to earn back that Booyah," Ron murmured. While the nearest henchman was bent over, the male teen jumped up and landed on the goon's back. Startled, the muscular lackey suddenly stood up straight, forcing Ron to instinctively grab hold of the goon's hair to keep from being thrown off. The henchman howled in pain and thrashed violently trying to knock Ron off, but the young hero managed to maintain a grip that Kim's bronco busting Uncle Slim would have been proud of.

The fight between Kim and the other henchmen came to a temporary ceasefire when they heard Ron's screaming as he held on for dear life. Kim took advantage of her opponent's distraction and delivered two swift kicks to his midsection. The blows did little more than cause the villain to step back, but it was enough for Kim to scoot around him and put herself between her opponent and Ron's fight.

"Ron, over here," shouted Kim. She didn't bother to look over her shoulder, but knew Ron understood her plan by the frantic "Gotcha, KP" that followed.

Kim's enraged opponent glared at her. With surprising speed, he charged, but Kim was more than ready. The goon lashed out with a right cross, but instead a dodging again, Kim grabbed his beefy arm and used his momentum to swing him around behind her. Caught off-balance, the henchman struggled to stay upright, but could not stop his forward movement.

At the same time, Ron was yanking and jerking on the hair of the henchman he was riding, trying to steer him in the right direction. Finally, Ron managed to get his opponent pointed towards Kim. With a skillful flip, Ron leapt off the henchman, kicking him in the back and propelling him forward.

The two henchmen crashed into each other and bashed their heads together, knocking them both out cold.

"Yes," cried Ron and Rufus, high-fiving each other.

"Nice teamwork, boys," said Kim appreciatively. "Now we've got to hurry and…"

_"Please give it up for the ravishing Miss Bonnie Rockwaller. Such a beauty we have never seen before on this stage, complimented perfectly by her designer swimwear. If the reaction of this audience is any indication, Miss Rockwaller is all but guaranteed the championship."_

Kim and Ron stared in horror at each other at the Master of Ceremonies' announcement.

"We're too late, KP," moaned Ron.

"Not yet, Ron," said Kim determinedly. She looked around for the Kimmunicator and scooped it up in one swift motion. Frantically, she pushed the buttons on the device, harder and faster until finally she screamed in frustration. "ARGH! It's no use. I can't get through to Wade. Señor Senior Senior is still jamming our communications."

"In that case," said Ron, "you're gonna have to get your pageant on and beat Bonnie."

"Good idea, Ron. That's exactly what I'd like to do," said Kim, punching her fist into the palm of her hand.

"Whoa, KP," said Ron. "When I said beat Bonnie, I didn't mean like a GWA smack down. I meant..."

"I know," said Kim, smiling at her own joke. "I've got to hurry on stage. Wish me luck." With a quick hug and backwards wave, Kim was out the door.

"Whoo, Kim had me a little worried there, for a second," said Ron. "Nice to see her confident self again, though." His naked mole rat friend nodded from Ron's pocket. "Well, come on, Rufus. Gotta go cheer my lady on."

Ron had only taken two steps towards the open door when his foot crunched down on something and the tinkling of broken glass reached his ear. The young man looked down and was shocked to see Kim's morphing necklace under his shoe. A large crack ran straight down the face of the emerald and several tiny sparks were sputtering out from the now visible circuitry within the fake gem.

"Uh oh," moaned Ron as he picked up the busted bauble. "I totally forgot that Senior pulled his off of Kim while we were trapped. And KP probably blanked on it too. She doesn't realize she's not in disguise. We gotta tell her, Rufus."

Ron started back up towards the door, but again stopped short, this time on purpose. Rufus squeaked and motioned for his owner to hurry. They had to stop Kim from going on stage, but Ron refused to move. He just stood there looking down at the necklace in his hand with a contemplative look.

"Rufus," said Ron slowly, "maybe we shouldn't go warn KP."

The naked mole rat looked at Ron like he was nuts. He chirped heatedly, demanding an explanation.

Ron gave an indulgent smile to his little friend's anger. "This is one time, Rufus, where I know what's best for Kim."

* * *

"Thank you, thank you," gushed Bonnie as she coyly closed the stage curtains, blocking the audience from her view. The beauty queen teen stared at the back of the heavy fabric, allowing herself a very satisfied smile. That last round had gone exactly as she planned.

Gaining the interest of a man was not as easy as most girls believed. Oh, it was simple to get them to look at you, of course, but holding that attention was the real challenge. It took more than makeup, tanned skin and a smoking hot designer outfit. A girl needed to be subtle: a gentle sway of the hips here, an innocent flip of the hair there, an oh-so-brief flash of eye contact. It was an intricate game and Bonnie considered herself to be a master at it.

And so did the audience, judging by the applause she was getting. Wowing those chumps was no different from turning the heads of hormonal teenage high schoolers. Bonnie was sure that it had been quite some time since the jaws of the fashion moguls in the audience had dropped that low. She even noticed, to her supreme delight, the jealous glares from the wives and girlfriends of said moguls. And, of course, the slobs hanging off the arena fence had hooted and shouted catcalls at her the entire time, but Bonnie took no offence. She thrived on the attention.

"Excellent, Bonnie, my sweet," crowed Junior as he slipped a fluffy robe over Bonnie's shoulders. "Although, I cannot help but be jealous at all those other males looking at you."

"Oh, Junior," cooed Bonnie, "you know you're the only one for me. Those other boys aren't nearly as handsome as you. Or as rich."

Mollified, Junior grinned stupidly at the praise and Bonnie allowed him to lead her to the back wall of the stage where Señor Senior stood waiting.

"Job well done, my dear," said Senior. "Of course, it helped that most of the other contestants had to drop out due to the injuries they sustained."

"Our sabotage!" cried Junior, clapping his hands like a little kid. "That was such fun, Father."

"Oh, please," said Bonnie dismissively. "I would have dominated them anyway."

Senior scowled at the rebuke, but decided that arguing would accomplish nothing. Instead, he took a calming breath and said, "The important thing is that the tiara and the throne of Anvaloppia is now ours."

"Yes," said Junior in his best evil villain voice. "And there is nothing anyone can to do stop us."

_"And now, please give a warm welcome to our last contestant, Anya Leavible."_

Every member of the villainous trio flinched in horror when they heard that name. As one, they turned to see a female figure in a white and blue bikini hurrying towards the curtain.

"How did she get loose?" asked Junior.

"Because she is the hero, my son, and quite a resourceful one at that," said Senior calmly and with great respect. "I would be disappointed otherwise."

"Well I'm gonna be disappointed if I don't get my crown," raged Bonnie. "Junior, stop her."

"Yes, dear," said Junior. He made to intercept Kim, but Senior thrust his cane out to stop the young man.

"No, Miss Possible has reached the stage. If we try to stop her now, we will be seen and ejected from the pageant," explained the older millionaire.

"Well, we have to do something," said Bonnie who was beginning to panic.

"Perhaps not," pondered Senior. "Bonnie, did you get a good look at Miss Possible before she went on stage?"

"No. Why?"

"I simply wondered if you noticed how lovely her red hair was?" Senior asked lightly.

"I don't care about that," spat Bonnie. "Why in the world would I..." Bonnie's voice trailed off as what Senior had said sunk in. "Did you say _red_ hair?"

"I did indeed," Senior confirmed.

"But the disguise of Anya Leavible has the silvery blond hair," said a confused Junior.

"That is true," said Senior. "For whatever reason, Kim Possible is not wearing her disguising necklace."

This news seemed to put Bonnie in a much better mood. "I've got nothing to worry about then. That disguise was the only thing keeping Kim in the running. She doesn't stand a chance of winning with her own looks."

"Perhaps not," said Senior to himself. _Or maybe your over confidence will catch up to you. Either way, I think a plan B is in order._

* * *

Kim's bare feet made soft slapping noises against the wooden floor of the arena as she walked briskly to the stage. The few contestants who had survived the talent round turned to greet her as she passed, but each friendly smile turned into a confused frown once they saw her. They whispered and pointed, wondering who this unfamiliar girl was. In her rush, Kim didn't notice, offering nothing more than a tense nod or half-hearted wave as she sped by.

In no time, she'd reached the curtain where her headlong charge came to a complete stop. Despite her disguise, Kim was still embarrassed about parading in front of a bunch of people in just a bathing suit, which right now felt like nothing more than a couple of tiny napkins wrapped around her body.

She just needed a minute to make sure she looked presentable. She had just been in a fight after all. A slender hand ran through her hair: no knots or curls. Nails still perfectly manicured. Toenails neatly trimmed and painted a faint baby rose. Not a speck of dirt or drop of sweat on her skin.

Stalling. That's what she was doing. Kim huffed, annoyed and disgusted with herself. She had to go out there; the fate of an entire country depended on it, but her feet simply would not listen to reason. Suddenly, Kim wished that Ron was there to push her onto the stage again. That's when she spied the Seniors and Bonnie out of the corner of her eye. They were clearly surprised that she was not still trapped in the dressing room, but the gloating grins on Señor Senior's and Bonnie's faces left no doubt that they still thought Kim would lose.

That was all the motivation the teen hero needed. With a grand flourish, Kim parted the curtains and stepped boldly onto the stage.

There was dead silence. In fact, it appeared that the audience had been frozen in place. No one moved, no one breathed, no one blinked. Not even the rowdy men hanging over the arena fence made so much as a lewd gesture. All they did was stare at her with wide, shocked eyes.

For a young girl who considered her physical image to be mediocre at best, Kim could not help but to take the crowd's reaction as a bad sign. But she took comfort in the knowledge that even if they hated her, it was Anya Leavible and not Kim Possible who would bear the brunt of their scorn.

Safe behind the illusion of a mask, Kim strode forward as calmly as if she were walking down the hall of her house. She smiled brightly at every stunned face as if greeting a close friend. Her arms swayed gently at her sides, the sunlight radiant against her skin. Her smooth, bare legs showed off her lean, but firm muscles. A series of deep breaths pushed her small chest out just enough to be noticed, but not enough to be considered tasteless.

By the time Kim had reached the far end of the stage and was on her way back, all tension and worry had left her. She imagined that she was miles away from the pageant, walking along a beach at sunset holding hands with a goofy, but charming blonde. She angled her face towards the sun, letting it beat down on her cheeks, giving them the slightest pink tint. The young girl relished the feel of the wind on her skin and for a second, could actually feel the sand beneath her feet. With one last swish of her long hair, Kim exited the stage back through the curtains.

"You were awesome, KP!"

At the sound of Ron's voice, reality came crashing back down around Kim. The teenager, blinked at the disruption of her daydream and saw her boyfriend standing in front of her looking the happiest she'd ever thought she'd seen him.

"I knew you could do it!" Ron cried, scooping Kim up in a tight hug that warmed the young woman up better than any sunlight could.

"Hey, you're the girl who can do anything, remember?"

"Sometimes I forget," Kim admitted. "But this time is was Anya Leavible who could do anything."

"Yeah..." Ron's voice trailed off as he adverted his gaze, eliciting a curious look from Kim. "About that KP..." Not bothering to explain in words, Ron reached into his pocket and pulled out the broken transforming necklace.

At first, Kim gazed at the necklace as if she couldn't figure out what it was. Then her eyes bugged out as realization set in. Both hands flew to her neck, but found nothing except bare skin. "Ron, what is..."

"Before you get mad, KP, I didn't take it." Due to past history, Ron felt it necessary to clarify that issue. " Señor Senior took it off you when we were in the dressing room, remember?"

Kim could do nothing more than nod, still searching her neck for the accessory she knew wasn't there.

Ron shrugged and said, "I guess in the fight, we just forgot about it."

"You mean I...without the...I went out there and...Ron, why didn't you stop me?" Kim asked, almost in hysterics.

With another innocent shrug, Ron answered, "I just figured that I'd let the audience tell you since you didn't want to believe me."

"Tell me what?" Kim demanded. "Ron, you better..." A single finger on Kim's lips shushed her as Ron cupped his other hand around his ear. That's when Kim noticed the uproarious noise coming from the other side of the curtains. Ron drew back the fabric barrier just a bit allowing Kim to peek out.

What she saw amazed the young woman. The entire audience was out of their seats, whooping and hollering up a storm. Applause thundered across the arena and the excited jumping of the crowd outside the fence was creating a mini earthquake. Even the refined businessmen and women in their tailored suits and stuffy airs were shaking their fists yelling their throats out, all dignity forgotten for the moment.

The reaction was so overwhelming, Kim couldn't figure out what to make of it. Her gaze snapped to the judge's table and the three figures who were looking similarly overwhelmed. All three of them knew who Kim Possible was, of course, and seeing her here instead of Anya Leavible meant that something funny was going on with the competition. But that didn't stop them from lavishing praise on Kim's performance.

"Magnificent!" cried Coco Banana. Literally, he was actually crying. It could very well have been the first time he'd shed real tears in decades. "A more natural beauty, I have never seen. Her swimwear was both enticing and reserved, hugging in all the right places."

"I am so jellin' right now," admitted Britina. "That girl's got a figure that any woman would kill for. And any man, I'm thinking."

"Me oui, a work of art," agreed Francois. "A true woman of the world who has seen and done so much and still retains her gentle nature. And that hair!"

Slowly, Kim drew the curtain closed and turned to face Ron, that goofy smile even wider on his face. "Ron," Kim said sweetly, draping her arms around her boyfriend's shoulders, "I don't say this nearly enough: you rock." Ron didn't get the chance to make a response - at least not a verbal one - as Kim's lips pressed firmly and lovingly against his.

* * *

After the crowd finally calmed down, there was a brief intermission as the judges conferred with each other. The tension in the air was thick with anticipation and more than one audience member had to be turned away by security for trying to eavesdrop on the judge's deliberation. At last, a sealed envelope was passed from Coco Banana to the Master of Ceremonies and the contestants were called back on stage.

Bonnie, who was now dressed in a low cut, green sequin gown, stood on the far right side of the line, closest to the M.C. and the tiara. Next to her was the now undisguised Kim who had changed her morphing suit into the blue and white ballroom gown she'd originally worn during the first round of the pageant. Farther down the line was a handful of other uninjured contestants whose tight smiles belayed their disappointment. The fact was that they were really only on stage now for show. Every one of them knew that the winner would be decided between Bonnie and Kim.

_"And now, ladies and gentlemen, the moment you've all been waiting for. It's time to announce our new Miss Fabulous! But first, let's give all the contenders a big hand. Wonderful job, ladies."_

The contestants all clapped politely, if impatiently for each other as the M.C. tore open the envelope.

_"I'm sure it comes as no surprise to anyone that our new Miss Fabulous is...Kim Possible!"_

Actually, there were two young ladies on stage that were very much surprised. Kim just stared in shock and Bonnie could only writhe in fury as the audience roared their approval. An impact hit her from behind and Kim turned to see Ron with his arms firmly around her waist.

"You did it, KP!" he shouted as he tried to squeeze the life out of his girlfriend.

Kim couldn't think of anything to say. Nor did she think her mouth would work properly even if she had. Her arms moved automatically to take the winner's cup offered by the M.C. and Marcus Dubois himself placed the jeweled tiara on her head.

"Now you look like the queen I always knew you were," Ron whispered into Kim's ear as he moved to stand by her side.

The stunned young hero didn't register the compliment and it was several seconds later when her brain finally started working again and Kim realized that this was actually happening. She had just won not just a beauty pageant, but _the_ beauty pageant. The most coveted title sought after by young girls everywhere. She looked to Ron, to Marcus Dubois, to the judges and finally to the audience trying to find some sign that this was all just a joke. That was when Kim realized everyone had quieted down and were now waiting for her to say something.

"I...I...I don't believe this," gasped Kim.

"Neither do I," seethed Bonnie. She strode over to Kim, her anger equal in power to a force of nature, but the young hero was too used to Bonnie's tantrums to be intimidated. "I demand a recount. This contest is obviously fixed."

_She's one to talk_, thought Kim, but she elected not to say anything. When dealing with Bonnie, it was best just to let her rant and get it out of her system.

However, Ron was never one to let an insult to Kim stand. "Back off, Bon-Bon. KP won fair and square."

"No one's talking to you, Loser," spat Bonnie, bristling at the mention of her hated childhood name. Turning back to Kim, she said, "There is no way you could have beaten me without cheating."

"Quite correct," said Señor Senior as he and his son appeared on the stage. Keeping his malicious eyes on Kim, he addressed Marcus Dubois and the judges. "Miss Rockwaller should be declared the winner. Miss Leavible - that is, Miss Possible - has been lying to us through this entire pageant."

"So have you," accused Kim heatedly. "You've been doing everything you could to insure Bonnie would win, including sabotaging the other contestants."

"You have no proof of that," Senior calmly pointed out. "On the other hand, it is obvious to everyone that you, Kim Possible, not only entered this contest under a false name, but also a false face." Looking to Marcus Dubois, Senior asked, "Surely this alone is cause for disqualification. Should a pageant participant not win using natural beauty alone?"

"Oh please," scoffed Marcus Dubois, dismissing Señor Senior's complaint outright. "Do you know how many contestants have had some kind of cosmetic work down over their careers? There's more detail work in your average pageant than in a car show."

"Besides, it is not just beauty that made Coco Banana and his colleagues choose Miss Possible," stated the world famous designer. "She has strength, courage, kindness - everything that Miss Fabulous should stand for." Britina and Francois nodded their agreement with conviction.

"The decision stands, sir," said Marcus Dubois in a threatening tone. Several of the security guards jumped up onto the stage at his signal. "Now, as to the small matter of your burglary attempt in my studio..."

"What now, Father?" Junior cowered behind Senior as the guards closed in.

The elderly patriarch seemed unconcerned with the younger muscle moving in on him. With a sigh, he reached into his pocket and said, "I did not want it to come to this, Miss Possible, but you have forced my hand."

A split second too late, Kim realized what Senior was about to do. She tried to reach forward and stop him, but her brain hadn't even begun to transmit the order to her hand before the villain whipped a small pellet out of his pocket and threw it to the ground. A think cloud of gray smoke instantly engulfed the stage, stinging eyes and clogging throats.

Senior nimbly stepped out of the smoke's range, away from the security guards, with Junior close behind, dragging Bonnie along with him. In the elder villain's hand was the tiara which he'd managed to swipe right off a coughing Kim's head. "A snatch and grab," he said to himself. "It pains me to resort to such a common thieving technique, but being named king will surely take the sting away. Come, Junior."

The two bad guys plus one high school girl dashed towards the exit of the arena. Other security guards tried to impede their path, but a few more smoke pellets stalled them.

Kim was still in the thick cloud, both hands pressing firmly against her mouth and nose, trying unsuccessfully not to breathe in. Through the monochrome haze, Kim could just make out three retreating figures.

"Come on, Ron," choked out Kim as she grabbed her partner's hand and pulled them both out of the smoke. The fresh air cleared their heads quickly and the two heroes raced to catch up with the villains. Señor Senior saw them give chase over his shoulder and urged the two youths to go faster.

Just before the group reached the exit, a platoon of at least a dozen large men dressed in blue and black striped uniforms jumped out of nowhere to block the path. Senior and Junior stopped short in surprise and were tackled by the sudden mob.

"Not the hair! Not the hair!" screamed Junior as he and his father were roughly forced to the ground. In the confusion, Bonnie slipped out of Junior's grasp and distanced herself from the fighting. One of the uniformed men, thinking that Bonnie had been captured by Junior to be used as a hostage, gently escorted the young woman away. Inwardly smirking, Bonnie played the part of the distraught innocent bystander, profusely thanking the man for getting her away from those vicious thugs. Nobody noticed that the girl had stealthily managed to scoop up the tiara which had fallen from Senior's clutches.

The sound of helicopter blades filled the air and everyone looked up to see a small black chopper drop out of the sky. The wind from its rotors kicked up a cloud of dirt and leaves and tore at the stage's cloth curtains. The judges dived under their table for cover against the fierce gale. All the contestants ran for the safety of the backstage. The audience members struggled not to be knocked out of their seats.

Needless to say, Kim and Ron were astonished at the unexpected resolution. Staggering to a halt from their mad dash, Ron asked, "Who the heck are these guys?"

"Let's find out," said Kim as she determinedly marched over to the mess of uniformed men. The soldiers - officers, whoever they were - parted to reveal both villains handcuffed and subdued.

"Stand back, Miss," ordered one of the men as Kim and Ron tried to move closer.

"I'm Kim Possible and this is Ron Stoppable," said Kim, slightly suspicious of the newcomers. "Who are you exactly?"

"Ah, Kim Possible," cried a voice from within the helicopter. A rope ladder dropped from the vehicle and a tall man in his mid-forties descended to the stage. He was wearing the same blue and black uniform as the others, but with three golden stripes of rank on his shirt sleeves.

"Sorry for the rather abrupt arrival," the man apologized. "I'm Major Minor from the Anvaloppian Special Forces. Pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"Oh, same here," said Kim as she shook the Major's hand.

"Your friend, Mr. Load, contacted us and said you had found the royal tiara," the Major said.

"Yes, we did," answered Kim. "You certainly got here fast."

Major Minor pointed to the helicopter that now sat silently on a field adjacent to the arena. "The latest in rocket propulsion technology. The best money can buy."

"You're dad would love to get his hands on that," comment Ron to Kim.

"What are you going to do with them?' asked Kim, indicating the struggling forms of the defeated Seniors.

The Major looked back over his shoulder. "My forces have no jurisdiction in America, but we'd be glad to drop them off at the local authorities."

"Where the charge will be attempted theft," confirmed Kim.

After checking to make sure everyone in the crowd was okay, Marcus Dubois made his way over to the group and introduced himself to the Major. "You may want to take me as well. I suppose I'm the one that's been keeping the tiara from you all these years," he said in a guilty tone.

The Major smiled in a friendly way. "We're not about to arrest you, if that's what you're worried about. I prefer to think that you've been keeping our national treasure safe for us. The people of Anvaloppia will be thrilled to have it returned."

"I'm going to miss it," Dubois admitted, "but it does rightfully belong to you."

"Very good," said Major Minor. "Now, where is it?"

Mr. Dubois, Kim and Ron all looked askance at each other, realizing that they didn't know where the tiara had gotten to after Señor Senior had dropped it. That's when they heard Bonnie call, "It's right here, where it belongs." The teenager strutted forward, the tiara glittering on her head. "I take a size six throne."

"Now hold on," shouted Ron. "Kim won the pageant. That crown is hers. I call dibs."

"Though luck, Loser," sneered Bonnie. "I'm wearing it now so that means I'm queen, right?"

"She is right, according to our laws," said the Major. He bowed to Bonnie and formally announced, "Your Majesty, you are now the rightful ruler of Anvaloppia, the richest country in the world."

"How rich is it?" shouted the audience.

Major Minor replied, "It's so rich, that invading armies need to pass a credit check before they cross the border."

The crowd and all the people on stage broke out into peels of laugher.

"Everybody's a comedian today," groused Kim.

"Let's get moving to my new country," order Bonnie with a snap of her fingers. The Anvaloppian guardsmen turned the Seniors over to pageant security and followed their new queen to the helicopter.

"My sweet, wait!" cried Junior, struggling against his bonds. "Maybe you could arrange for a royal pardon for your handsome boyfriend and his father?"

Bonnie looked at the two defeated villains coldly, not even slowing her pace. "I've never seen these two before in my life. Take them away."

As security guards hoisted the pair to their feet and led them off stage, Senior said, "Junior, you're girlfriend is most definitely the greediest, most black-hearted person I have ever met." Then he smiled and said, "She will make a wonderful addition to our villainous family."

"Many thanks for all your help, Miss Possible," said Major Minor with a salute.

"No big," Kim replied, returning the gesture.

Spinning on his heel, the Major marched back to the helicopter, hopped in and ordered the pilot to take off. As the blades kicked up another windstorm and the vehicle lifted up, Bonnie tauntingly yelled out, "I'll send you a postcard from my castle, Kim!"

Once everything had settled down again, Mr. Dubois addressed Kim, "Well, we no longer have a crown, but I am still pleased to present you to the world as Miss Fabulous."

The crowd cheered as Ron placed the winner's trophy back into Kim's hands. "Is this not the most amazing day or what, huh KP?"

"So not the drama, Ron," said Kim, waving to the crowd. "We take down the bad guys all the time."

"Not that," said Ron. "I'm talking about that fact that I can now officially say that I am dating a beauty pageant winner. Booyah! Major props for the Ron-man."

"Yeah, well, don't get used to it, Ron-man," chided Kim with a playful glare. "This was a onetime thing and I only did it to help out. It was strictly business."

"Oh well, I guess you'll be giving the trophy back then?" said Ron, reaching out to take the award.

Kim held the golden prize tightly against her chest and said, "Not on your life."

* * *

"I don't get it, KP."

The beauty pageant was over. Kim and Ron had given their statements to the police when they'd finally arrived at the arena and had accepted Marcus Dubois' gushing thanks for making this year's Miss Fabulous pageant an astounding success. When the two teens had tried to leave, several of the businessmen in the audience fought their way towards Kim, begging her to model their latest fashions. Ron had been all for it, standing ready with a pen to sign the contract, but Kim had politely declined all offers.

Now the heroic duo was taking a very well deserved rest at Bueno Nacho. Ron, back in his normal red jersey, black shirt and cargo pants, was sitting in a booth with a half-dozen Nacos in front of him which he and Rufus were eagerly devouring. Kim was sitting on the other side of the booth and wearing a teal blouse and blue jeans. Instead of her usual salad, she had ordered a extra-cheesy chimerito, Grande sized. After staring at those paper thin pageant contestants all day, Kim had the sudden urge to eat something greasy with more than five calories.

As she patted the cheese dribbling down her chin with a napkin, Kim looked up to see the confused and curious face of her best friend boyfriend.

"What's not to get, Ron? We saved the day and the Seniors are in jail."

"Yeah, yeah," said Ron, waving his hand dismissively. "Old news, Mi Kimila. What I want to know is why you let Bonnie get away with taking the tiara from you. You didn't even put up a fight."

The young woman just shrugged and said, "So not the drama, Ron. If Bonnie wanted that thing so badly, I wasn't going to stand in her way. At least it's safely back in Anvaloppia where it belongs. That's all I care about."

Kim wasn't nearly as obvious as Ron was when she was lying, but to a boy who'd known the girl his whole life, it couldn't have been clearer. "Alright, what do you know?"

Kim put her food down on her grease-soaked plate and gave Ron a shrew smile. "Right about now, Bonnie's discovering that being queen isn't all it's cracked up to be."

Oh, this was going to be good. "Spill," Ron pleaded.

"During the break between the Q&A and talent rounds of the pageant, I had Wade do a little more research into Anvaloppia's income," Kim explained. "I wanted to know how they got to be so rich."

"And what was it?" Ron prodded. "Oil? Gold? Stock in Disney?"

"None of the above," said Kim. "Turns out, all of Anvaloppia's money is received through international grants and contributions. They get their funding from every other government in the world."

"You're telling me that they just have to sit back and people hand them money?" asked Ron in disbelief. "They don't make or sell anything themselves?"

"Well, not quite," admitted Kim. "All those government grants require a ton of applications that need to be filled out. Imagine all the college acceptance forms we had to fill out times about a million."

"You mean..."

"That's right," said Kim. "Anvaloppia is the biggest exporter of paperwork in the world.

True to Kim's word, Bonnie was finding out the hard way that becoming a royal did not automatically equate to a fairy tale ending. True, she did get her palace full of servants, her dresses made of the finest materials, a treasure room full of riches and a throne lined with the purest gold and silver. Trouble was, that throne was sitting in front of a table piled high with stacks upon stacks of forms that needed to be completed, signed and authorized in triplicate.

Bonnie had been at it all day and her hand was in the early stages of paralysis, but despite all her work and all her whining, she hadn't appeared to make the slightest dent in the mountains of paper.

"Ugh, aren't I done yet?" Bonnie cried as she massaged her hand to get the blood flowing again.

The middle-aged aide by her side took no notice of his new queen's discomfort. Checking over the latest filled-out form, he approved it with a nod and set down another nearly identical one in its place. "We can take a short break in just a minute, Your Highness. I just need you to complete this verification form to verify that you've confirmed that the previous forms were verified."

"I don't even know what that means," said Bonnie, throwing her hands up into the air. "Can't I just order someone else to do all this?"

"Oh no, Queen Bonnie." Her aid looked positively scandalized at the suggestion. "As our leader, it is your duty. And besides, the citizens like to know that their queen is concerned about their welfare."

The look Bonnie gave the aide spoke quite clearly about how she felt about the commoners' welfare. "This is not how being a queen is supposed to go," she argued. "I should be accepting gifts from princes and throwing random people in the dungeon and dancing the night away at a grand ball."

The aide, who hadn't seemed to be listening, perked up at the end of Bonnie's rant. "Oh, Your Highness, a ball would be an excellent idea."

"Now you're talking," Bonnie said, looking much happier.

The aide pulled down on a fabric cord hanging by the throne. A deep gong sounded from somewhere within the palace. Seconds later, a forklift rolled right into the throne room and deposited a pallet of paperwork that dwarfed what was already in front of Bonnie.

"Just fill out these Imperial Entertainment Requisition Forms, Your Majesty."

With a groan, Bonnie fell forward, banging her head against the wooden table.

* * *

_And there you have it. I hope everyone enjoyed my story and got a laugh or two out of it. Again, I'd like to thank everyone who read this. And a special thank you to t-rex989 who issued this challenge and gave me the plot idea in the first place. As always, reviews and constructive criticism are welcome._


End file.
